


Heroism Has No Qualifications

by House Sparrow (AnjuPhantomhive)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-02 00:03:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 52,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16294505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnjuPhantomhive/pseuds/House%20Sparrow
Summary: College student Paige ends up in the MCU and joins the Avengers. Friendships are formed and tested by hope and fear, fate and agency. Assume spoilers for all released MCU media. Spoiler and trigger warnings will be at the top of the chapters. This is a personal therapy project tackling mental illness and other hard issues in the MCU. (There is a work by the same name on fanfiction.net; this is the same work and I am the same author)





	1. The Fudge?!

**Author's Note:**

> Please Read
> 
> These will be reserved mostly for spoiler and trigger warnings. I'll put an occasional message here, but try to keep it short so as to not break the flow of the story. Always assume spoilers for the 2012 Avengers film. If the trigger is in the MCU, assume it is here (I won't write much detail for death, gore, extreme violence, etc.).
> 
> Trigger Warnings: anxiety/panic attack

The cold is what stirs me to consciousness. My groggy mind reasons that I must have kicked my blanket off during the night. Ugh. I’m beat, but it’s too bright. I should get up. I should layer a bunch of curtains again is what I should I do.

This little debate melts away some of the sleep fog, and I realize my pillow is missing. Also, why does my lumpy old mattress feel smooth and cold? My eyes shoot open as panic begins to wash over me. Bright room, glass floor, men’s boots — wait! Boots means person! I quickly sit up to find —

Oh crap. Oh no, no no no! My chest seizes up, my heart begins to race. I feel myself losing rationality, something I am clearly going to need. “P-please excuse me, Your Highness,” I stutter out, body trembling. That’s how you address a prince, right? “I— I need to get past this panic attack.” Yes, that’s what this is. I close my eyes. In other words, this is trouble.

No, stop thinking like that! Breathe! In, and out. In, . . . out. You need to be rational.

Thank goodness I’m not crying. That would be bad. That would be very bad with him.

Think. Be rational. Brain, work!

Deep breath. Okay, . . . okay. The trains are moving again. What’s the game plan? He can see through lying, which you suck at anyway. Honesty is the best policy. Full honesty? Full disclosure could be bad. Manipulative honesty, then. Yeah, that works. Now, timeline. Glass cage means after Germany, but before the helicarrier craziness. Crazy guy in front of me. Is he sane? Dangerous for sure. And I haven’t had breakfast. Hypoglycemia is going to take its toll soon.

Silent prayer.

I need to get out. Don’t offend, but don’t kiss up. Breathe in, . . . and out.

I open my eyes. He is still staring at me. He looks . . . slightly amused? I get up slowly, fighting weak knees and the general shakiness that has taken over my whole body. His face is . . . intense. That’s okay, you’re good at looking away, and it may be taken as respectful. Respect is good. Deep breath in, . . . and out.

“My apologies again, Your Highness.” I didn’t stutter this time, but my voice is still wavering. “Those happen sometimes, but I think I’m mostly through it.”

“Your Highness?” He quirks a brow.

“Is that not the correct title? As an American, I don’t really know these things. If something else is more appropriate—”

He waves a hand. “It is fine. Why the title?”

“Well, Your Highness, you are a prince, twice-over.” Crap! Not common knowledge!

He leans forward. “And you know this how?”

I attempt to back away, only to find myself against the wall after my first step.“That’s . . . difficult to say — Um, Director Fury?” I address the man I know must be listening by now, but keep my attention on the towering threat in front of me. “Would you mind getting me out of here?”

Loki steps closer. “You fear me.”

I give a small nod. “Please?” I plead with the air. Maybe they think I’m a trick? “My name is Paige Katherine Bauer. I was born on June 20th, 1997.” I begin to rattle off information. “I attend Brigham Young University. I—” Shut up! Any more and he might go after your family! Actually, that was probably enough for him to find them already.

The speakers come to life what feels like ages later. “No such person exists.” Where are the speak— Oh crap, I need to get out of here and help my family!

Wait, what? “I assure you, I’m real.”

“There is no proof of that as of yet.”

“I know his plan!” I didn’t even think; the words just tumbled out of my mouth. Oh, panic-brain is making mistakes!

“If you haven’t noticed, they caught me.” He is awfully close. This is not a good time for my personal bubble to be invaded.

It’s okay. They think they foiled his plan. No, wait, they send in Black Widow because they think he is planning something. I shift uneasily.

“Would you mind enlightening us, then?” the disembodied voice asks. I think it’s finally Fury.

No, then he could change the plan. The plan as-is can be defeated, if barely. Any changes and who knows? But I can’t just say that, not with him here. I shouldn’t have said anything to begin with.

“Release me first,” I say slowly, almost choking on my words.

“Do you know the stakes here?”

“I do.”

“Then be a dear and take one for team Earth.”

I summon what little courage I have an reply with one small, quiet word: “No.”

My pathetic refusal is met with obscenities; I’m definitely talking to Director Fury now. “You would risk the human race for your personal safety?” he growls. I remain silent. The only hope my family has is if the plot continues. Is my family even here? It doesn’t matter; others are. To answer their question: no.

But I would risk my life for the human race.

Loki backs away, chuckling under his breath. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me now, but the possibilities are bleak. My knees buckle. I slide along the glass wall of the cage until I am on the floor, knees up to my chest. I close my eyes and steady my breathing again.

No more impulsiveness. No more mistakes. Everything from now on has to be carefully calculated with all likely consequences taken into account.

The time for fear is over. Fear is for self-preservation. Self-preservation is no longer the issue at hand. But I need to still play the part. He will see through my poor acting, so I will have to play on my natural responses. Ambiguity will be the key to tricking the Trickster.

I glance up at said man. His posture reads cool, collected, and in-control, but he is very obviously watching me out of the corner of his eye. I wonder what his master thinks of me or if he even knows of me, and then it clicks, causing a wave of tumblr to crash into my thoughts.

He was not acting alone.

To what degree is he acting of his own free will? If that one theory is correct, he is making Earth look strong using a weak invasion. No, not likely. There’s no motivation for that. There’s little for this scheme in general. He must be forced, mind-controlled, or having his emotions manipulated; it could be an all-of-the-above case.

I begin to study Loki carefully while he observes me. He certainly doesn’t look very healthy. Okay, ill treatment by the chitauri: check. Eye color? Though not as bright, it’s definitely mind control blue.

Hm, but he has a strong mind. Time for interrogation.

“You don’t have to do this, Your Highness.” A cliche, sure, but the ambiguity and mention of necessity could make his response helpful. That is, if I could read even normal people, let alone the god of lies. Maybe Black Widow will pick up on something.

He glares. “Do not suppose to know the things of gods, mortal,” he spits. Loki doesn’t see himself as a god, though; at least, not in _Thor: The Dark World_. One more test then.

Near-terror forces my question into a whisper. “What would your mother say?”

That elicits some very nasty words. Nope, Loki would never, in any state of mind, say such horrid things of Frigga. Deny her as being his mother? Yes. Throw some accusations of bad parenting? Maybe. Use those crude and vulgar words in reference to her? Never.

I throw my hands up, palms out, fear of using that line justified. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. I was just trying to do my duty as a Midgardian.” True enough. “I’ll stop now.” I’ve managed to find out what I need to know.

“If you wish to do your duty as a Midgardian, tell everyone the details of my plot.”

“I would rather not.”

“You are a coward.”

That’s fairly accurate. I shrug. “I have other priorities.”

We sit in silence for a time, which suits me just fine. I take the time to think through the plots of what I had seen of the Marvel Cinematic Universe and determine risks of different interferences on my part.

———

Oh my gosh, can he stop pacing? For just one minute? I mean, at least he’s done staring at me, but _come on_. You’re not the only one antsy for things to progress here, Loki. Ugh, I must have shown up in the middle of the night, because I feel like I haven’t slept, and I’m so cranky, but _goodness_ , just chill for a moment.

Suddenly the light footsteps stop. I turn to find Agent Romanoff outside the cell.

“There’s not many people that can sneak up on me,” Loki says, turning to see our guest.

“But you figured I’d come.”

“After. After whatever tortures Fury can concoct, you would appear as a friend, as a balm. And I would cooperate.” I try not to wince at Loki’s mention of torture.

Natasha nods in my direction. “And so you summoned your own company.”

Loki snorts. I snap out of my trance — an actual movie scene is playing out before me — and remember that I can’t interfere. I turn my back to the conversation and rest my head on my knees, determined to reveal nothing.

“Only the weak fear solitude. Besides, the little mouse is not very entertaining.” Yup, I’m a mouse. Don’t mind me.

“I wanna know what you’ve done to Agent Barton.” Good, she’s ignoring me now.

I tune them out, not wanting to react to anything said. This works until Loki’s tone suddenly becomes angered. “This is the basest sentimentality. This is a child at prayer . . . pathetic!” I don’t know, my prayers are part of what’s keeping me going right now. I focus on another prayer, only to have my thoughts interrupted as Loki slams the cell wall. “I won’t touch Barton. Not until I make him kill you! Slowly. Intimately. In every he knows you fear! And when he’ll wake just long enough to see his good work, and when he screams, I’ll split his skull! This is my bargain, you mewling quim!” I shudder at the sincerity in his voice.

“You’re a monster,” I hear Romanoff say quietly.

Loki gives a broken, twisted laugh. “No, you brought the monster.”

“So, Banner . . . that’s your play,” she responds calmly, all confidence once more.

“What?”

“Loki means to unleash the Hulk. Keep Banner in the lab; I’m on my way. Send Thor as well. . . . Thank you for your cooperation.” I wait a minute after I hear her quickly exit the room, then I stand up and stretch a bit.

“What are you preparing for, child?”

“Chaos, Your Highness.”

He chuckles. “Perhaps you can be entertaining. Do you really believe you can even hope to prepare for what is coming?”

“Your Highness, my hope is the only real preparation I have.”

He smirks wide, toothy, and manic. “Everyone should take notes from you.”

I bow my head. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

An explosion shakes the helicarrier. I lose my footing and tumble into Loki. I’m surprised that he catches me, but when I right myself I find his grin has somehow grown and become even more manic. My blood runs cold. All I can think is that Loki definitely has ice powers. I try to step back, but my arms are locked in his iron grip.

“You will be leaving with me.” My eyes go wide. “Be grateful, mortal; my side is the safest place you can be, granted you don’t displease me.” I nod. “Good. In exchange, I expect you to stay quiet and not interfere. You will give absolute obedience willingly, or else join Agent Barton.” I nod again. He releases me and chuckles.

Distant chaos is a strange thing. I can feel the ship swaying and hear the Hulk’s muffled roars, but this room is calm.  
Perhaps ‘calm’ isn’t the best word, because it is charged with anticipation, but nothing happens until three turned agents rush in with Loki’s scepter and open the door for us. Loki grabs my upper arm and roughly pulls me out behind him.

“Thor will come to stop me.” It’s a statement, but he looks to me for some sort of confirmation. I simply nod. “Do not interfere.” I nod again. He waves the agents off while guiding us to the controls to lie in wait. As he crafts his illusionary self, he shifts so that he is clutching me close to him, covering my mouth with one hand and gripping the weapon in the other.

When Thor enters, I bite my lip to keep from acting. “No!” he yells and runs through the fake-Loki breaking out of the cell.

Loki reveals us and taps the ‘close’ button with the tip of the scepter. “Are you ever not going to fall for that?” Honestly, I can’t disagree. Thor should know Loki’s favorite tricks after a few centuries.

I think I’m in shock? I’m taking this pretty well. “The humans think us immortal. Should we test that?” Maybe it’s not shock; maybe it’s because I know Thor should be okay. So I ignore his rage and take a deep breath as he attempts to break out using Mjolnir.

Then I hear _his_ voice. “Move away, please.”

But Loki had already dragged us away, leaving an illusion in our place. During his monologue, we move behind him.

I can’t breathe. I’m not in shock, nope. I am perfectly aware of what is happening and what is about to happen. As we get into range behind Coulson, I act on an impulse that has never failed to get me out of this hold.

I lick Loki’s hand.

“What the—?” He drops his hand. Agent Coulson whips around, but Loki’s reflexes are faster. He slashes into the agent’s side, then uses the staff part to knock him into the wall. Coulson’s head collides with the metal, knocking him out cold.

In the same motion, Loki shoves me to the ground, then steps on my shoulder, pressing the tip of the scepter into my back.

“Try that again, and you will know the true meaning of regret, mortal,” he hisses. I’m then roughly pulled back up by my shirt collar. He stomps over to the control panel and drops his brother into the sky. The only help I can offer is a silent prayer.

“It won’t happen again, Your Highness,” I cough out. I stare at the floor, unable to look at either the agent Coulson killed or the possibly dying Coulson against the wall.

A cold hand jerks my head in the former agent’s direction. “Get used to it,” Loki whispers into my ear. “War is not without casualties.” I nod silently. And I remain silent as he practically drags me through the maze of the helicarrier until we reach our ride.

———

I sit dutifully in my seat as the plane speeds away from the damaged helicarrier. The initial escape was an . . . interesting flight. Okay, my blood sugar is low and the piloting of this thing is not helping my dizziness. “Your Highness?” I call out weakly, my head in my hands.

“What is it?” he grumbles.

“You said I could be useful.”

“And?”

“I’m hypoglycemic. If I don’t eat soon, I will pass out.” Seriously, has this guy ever piloted one of these before?

“Your point being?” Loki says exasperatedly.

“I doubt I’ll be very useful while unconscious, Your Highness. I would imagine that if anything, I would be in the way.” He must agree, because the agent piloting the plane tosses a pack of trail mix at me. I — of course — fail to catch it, earning a scoff from Loki.

I pick the packet up from where it landed next to me and proceed to fumble with the packaging, trying to blink away the dizziness. I feel much better a few minutes after my snack. However, my head is not quite up to more plot line exploration. I had planned sufficiently to handle the rest of the day, anyway. I wish I could just take a nap, but that simply is not going to happen.

———

I hold my breath through sounds of crashing. “Puny god,” a large voice says. I stay as still as possible until I’m sure Hulk has left. I take a small breath and cautiously peek out from my hiding spot. The coast is clear.

I take a deep breath and slowly approach Loki where he lies in the floor crater. As I peer down at him, he opens his eyes. I watch as they switch between green and blue. Uh-oh. Isn’t he supposed to snap out of it at this point? What do I do? I say a silent prayer.

“Hey, um, Loki? Loki, snap out of it. You can beat him. Come back to yourself.” His eyes stay blue for a few moments. “Loki?” This is a big problem. “Jarvis? What’s the status on the portal?”

“It is in the process of being shut down.”

“Keep me updated, okay?”

I encourage Loki to fight the mind control. There are a few moments when he is himself and looks at me confusedly.

Jarvis speaks up, “The chitauri ship has been destroyed.”

Loki clutches his head and his eyes go back to blue. “No!” he yells and starts to push himself back up.

Nuh uh. “Loki, you are stronger than him! Push him out!” This is unacceptable. “I swear to God, you purple piece of shit, if you don’t let him go _right now_ , I will assemble the armies of the nine realms and _personally_ shove you into the most remote corner of the universe where not even the sweet embrace of Death can give you any respite!”

With a groan, Loki falls to the ground. I kneel beside him. “Loki? Loki, are you okay?” He is in frost giant form and has dropped all illusions hiding his wounded state.

“Jarvis? Please contact SHIELD and ask for a medevac.”

“I’ll do my best to explain the situation.”

“Thank you, Jarvis. And don’t worry about Stark; he’ll be alright.”

———

“Oh my god, she’s real,” Stark mumbles.

“Why is Loki blue?” Captain Rogers asks.

Thor rushes toward Loki and moves to pick him up. “Don’t move him!” I beg. He stares at me, as if just now noticing my presence. “He’s too hurt. We need to wait for paramedics.”

“How did this happen? Did we . . . ?” he asks.

My eyes trail away. “No. Loki has a strong mind. It took a lot of torture control him.” I hear some gasps. “Loki was tortured and mind-controlled. His actions were not his own,” I clarify, now finally able to reveal the truth.

“How do we know to believe you?”

I don’t look up. “Asgardians are raised to fear and despise Jotuns as inferior monsters. Loki would never show his frost giant self like this.” I see Thor nod solemnly in my peripheral. “Also, his eyes have been mind-control blue like Agent Barton’s were. Loki’s eyes are green.”

“I . . . I didn’t even notice,” Thor mumbles.

“So if Loki wasn’t leading the attack, who was?”

“Don’t worry; this battle is over. The bigger bad shouldn’t attack Earth again for some time yet.”

“And this big bad is?”

“ . . . Well, he already knows I know of his hand in this. He is a powerful being, an insane Titan called Thanos.”

Thor coughs. “Tha-Thanos? Are you sure?”

“Positive. I’ll brief everyone once we get back to, um, wherever. I need to speak to Fury.” I frown down at the still form in front of me before looking back up. “Please, I . . . is Coulson . . . ?”

“He is in critical condition, but has a decent chance of pulling through.”

I sigh in relief, then jump a little as I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn to see Agent Romanoff kneeling beside me. “Come, let’s get you something to eat. You’ve had a long day.”

I shake my head. “I stay by Loki’s side. Once we’re picked up, you should all go get your shwarma. I assure you, you have nothing to worry about from either of us. I will explain things once we are with Fury. And Loki is . . . . I don't think he’ll be capable of much for awhile.”

Thor grabs my wrist before I can check Loki’s pulse for probably the twentieth time. “Don’t! Jotun skin—”

“I know, but it hasn’t been. I’m worried. I don’t know if it’s because he wasn’t raised on Jotunheim, but I fear it’s because is so weak or because he is drained of his magic. He really struggled to reclaim his mind.”


	2. I love-hate Graves

The time passes in silence, the team too tired to badger me, until SHIELD paramedics rush out of the elevator. The agents don’t protest as I follow them into the quinjet. I am interviewed about Loki’s physical state as they fuss over him. After I tell them anything I can think of that would be helpful, I am left out of the way to wait out the ride in silence. I am carefully watched by a single agent as I anxiously watch the doctors work.

My shoulder is shaken harshly and I awake to find my guard agent in front of me. Silently, he pulls me to my feet and leads me out of the plane. We are back on the helicarrier. I turn my head to watch the paramedics leave as we take a turn, the agent leading me down a different hall. After dizzying twists and turns, we stop in front of a simple door. The agent opens it and gently pushes me in.

Sitting at one of the small tables in the break room is Nick Fury, idly stirring his coffee. It’s a strange sight, him all alone in a peaceful break room. He’s still in his intimidating uniform and looks beyond worn out. I can’t imagine what the helicarrier must have been like today after the attack.

I grab a banana off the counter and fill a glass with water before I sit across from him. “Long day, huh,” I say to break the silence while I peel my fruit.

“We lost thirty-seven agents today,” he says deadpan. I stare at my hands, trying to see my snack and not the face of the dead agent in the detainment room. “It will be days before we have a final count, but the attack on Manhattan has a casualty count in the hundreds.” My breath hitches. My throat is closing up, and there’s an uncomfortable weight in my chest.

I set the banana down. “I’m not going to feel guilty for something that’s not my fault.” It’s a wish, or perhaps a promise to myself. But at the moment, my statement simply isn’t true.

“You knew his plan,” Fury growls.

“I knew you could beat it,” I whisper. His face softens slightly when he sees the tears welling in my eyes. “Announcing I knew it was a mistake, an impulse in my desperation to help my family. But if the plan had changed, we might not have made it. It was too close as it was.”

“You tricked him.”

I look away. “I had to. All those people . . . . The best I could do for them was to keep everyone else safe.”

“But how did you know his plan?”

I turn back to him. “I, um, I think I’m from a different dimension or something. Because for me, this was the plot of a movie.”

He furrows his brows. “Pardon?”

“Where I’m from, there aren’t any superheroes. This is a movie.”

He leans in. “How did you get here?”

“I don’t know. And I don’t know how to get back. If anyone would know what is going on, it would be . . . ,” I bite my lip while I think. “It would be Loki or Frigga.”

“So we’ll just have to wait until Loki wakes up.”

I shrug. “I guess so. . . . I hope he can recover,” I add, glancing toward the door.

“The movie didn’t cover this?”

I sigh. “Things have . . . strayed.”

Director Fury settles back into his seat. “Tell me everything about this film.”

 

———

 

I am escorted to a small room that I will be staying in and left alone to contemplate my discussion with Fury. I went over the first _Avengers_ film in detail and explained Loki’s situation. I’m mostly sure I didn’t give any information that could be used by Hydra.

I sigh and collapse onto the bed. Eventually, the same agent returns with a small dinner and some spare clothes. After eating, I clean up and change, then fall gratefully into blissful oblivion.

 

———

 

I roll over. The clock says 6:07. What the fudge am I doing up? Oh well, I’m awake now. I get up and stretch, frowning as I find that I’m dizzy. Ugh, I hate being without my meds.

I peek outside the door to find Agent Silent (I hadn’t caught his name yet) waving some other agent off. They must be swapping shifts? I ask. He hums in confirmation, but I finally get a good angle of his badge: Agent Graves. Suiting. He hands me a few pill bottles. I smile and thank him, then hurry and take them. Going off these is bad. I return to find Agent Graves lounging in a chair outside my room.

“Can you show me to the cafeteria . . . or galley please?” He raises an eyebrow at me quizzically. “I’m sorry, I don’t know ship lingo. But for whatever reason I’m awake now and I’m hypoglycemic.” He shrugs and gets up, lazily heading down the corridor.

I pause for a second before rushing to catch up. “So, you’re on babysitting duty, huh?” After a beat, he nods curtly. “I’m sorry; I’m pretty boring. I’m sure you’d rather be somewhere helpful.” He doesn’t respond. “My name is Paige, by the way.”

“Uh huh.”

“So, you’re probably also supposed to glean more info from me, right?” He stops to study my face for a second before nodding again. “You should take Fury’s approach and be friendlier with me, then. If you took advantage of my isolation and acted as a friend, I’d tell you all kinds of things,” I muse. He looks over and frowns at me, but says no more.

Once we are seated in the galley, both with breakfast, I try to get him to talk. “I can’t believe you didn’t eat breakfast,” I lightly reprimand. “It’s the most important meal of the day!” I recite passionately. Graves just shakes his head and picks up a piece of bacon. I say a silent prayer, then follow suit. After a few more attempts at conversation, I give up, and we finish our meal in silence.

“I want to visit Loki,” I say as I return my tray. I turn to look at Graves. “Is that allowed?” I know I’m not allowed to go anywhere without Graves — I’d get lost, anyway — but I don’t know what other rules I have.

My guard just nods and leads me to the medical bay. As we walk, the halls grow increasingly busier and the agents more distracted with important tasks. I walk directly behind Graves to keep out of the way. Finally, we reach a door flanked by two agents on either side. Graves leads me inside.

We meet a doctor — I think she’s one of the paramedics from before — examining the wounds on Loki’s torso. Her hands are shaking slightly and her ponytail is ragged.

“Um, have you gotten any sleep?” I ask, concerned.

“When she turns, I see bags under her eyes. “Not since he arrived on Earth,” she says tiredly, jamming a thumb toward her patient. I catch her name: Agent Parker.

“That’s so long! Can I help?”

“You were with him when we picked him up, right?” I nod. She hesitates, then waves me over with a shrug. “We just need to change the dressings.” Her breath smells of coffee. Her trembling hands show me how to apply the ointment on Loki’s back and chest. I try not to wince at the wounds. Doctor Parker then walks me through proper bandaging. After we’re done, Loki’s whole torso covered in gauze, we lower him back down.

She removes her gloves. “We’re severely understaffed right now. Do you think you can do this every morning and night, replacing the bandages every morning?” I nod. “Have you ever removed stitches before?” I nod again and point to my eyebrow. We both look to Graves. He kind of shrugs.Doctor Parker takes that as permission, thanking me and rushing out.

I look back at Graves. “I guess I’m on Loki-duty now?” He shrugs and takes a seat in one of the chairs against the wall, pulling a pencil and intermediate-level sudoku book out of his pocket. I pull the other chair over by Loki’s bed and try to think of what to do until he wakes up.

I’ve mentally squared every number from zero to thirty when I hear the door open. I turn around to find Graves sitting a little straighter as Steve Rogers enters the room.

I wave. “Hello, Captain.”

He nods. “Good morning, Miss Bauer.”

I try to cover a laugh. “I’m nineteen. Call me Paige.”

He smiles. “In that case, I’m Steve.” The smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

“How was shwarma?”

“It was fine.” He hands me a satchel. I look inside to find two tablet computers with Stark logos and a few sets of earbuds. “A present from Stark. One for you and one for him.” He nods toward Loki.

“I’ll have to thank him! Thanks for delivering them!” I beam up at him, but he avoids my gaze. “Please tell me what’s bothering you.”

He looks up, a sheepish expression on his face. “Fury briefed the team on what you told him.”

“I understand if you don’t trust me. I wouldn’t. I mean, I know stuff I shouldn’t and there’s no record of me.”

“And you’re defending the man that tried to take over Earth.”

“Yeah, that too.” I sigh and look over at then unconscious man.

“He seemed invincible when we were fighting him.” Steve’s voice softens. “What they must’ve done for him to be like this . . . .”

I frown. “I just hope he’ll recover, physically and mentally.”

“Do you really trust this man?” I look up to find Steve staring at me intently.

“I know he can’t be blamed for recent events.”

“But do you _trust_ him?”

I don’t actually know Loki. But I possibly have a grasp on his character. And I don’t expect any ill from him. I choose my words carefully and meet Steve’s gaze. “As much as I trust you.” Which is as much as one can possibly trust a stranger.

Steve mulls it over before nodding solemnly and exiting the room. I sigh again before pulling out one of the Stark tablets and firing it up. I spend to next few hours fiddling with settings, customizing, and downloading some apps on both tablets. Graves never says a word, just works on his sudoku.

 

———

 

Someone slides up next to me and grabs the clementine I was about to put on my tray. Graves and I had decided (okay, the agent didn’t actually speak, just hummed) that it was time for a lunch break, so we had returned to the galley. The figure lounges against the counter and plays with the clementine.

“How do you like the tablet?” Stark asks casually, jamming his thumbnail into the peel.

“It’s awesome! Thanks so much!” I beam up at him before grabbing a new clementine and turning to survey the cafeteria for a seat.

Stark grabs a handful of clementines before simply telling me, “Come on,” and walking over to a table near the window. I follow, and Graves sits at the table next to us, pulling his sudoku back out to work on while he eats. I’m starting to wonder if he’s actually expected to learn anything from me or if he was just the only agent available to watch me. “Your babysitter seems pretty boring.”

I finish my prayer before answering. “He doesn’t say much.”

Stark pops a clementine segment into his mouth. “So, what’s the deal with you and Loki, huh?” I take a bite of my pizza, waiting for him to supply a better question. “First we see you, you’re trembling at his feet, then later you’re balling your eyes out over him.”

I swallow and answer simply, “It was a long day.”

“You gotta give me more than that, kid.” He pops another piece into his mouth.

“Mind-controlled Loki was an intimidating threat to myself and all of Earth. Loki himself . . . isn’t.” I shrug.

“Do you feel you can relate to him or something?”

I take a minute to answer, partially to mull it over, but mostly to actually eat. “I suppose I do a bit. What’s important is that he’s someone I can help.”

Stark frowns. “So you’re one of those do-gooders.”

“I try to be.”

“And you have absolutely no clue how you got here?”

“Nope.”

He scoots his chair back, the metal grating against the floor. “Boring.” He then scoops up his remaining clementines and saunters off. I shake my head at the two shredded peels left on the table. And he calls _me_ a kid.

 

———

 

Agent Romanoff enters as I am rewrapping Loki’s bandages in the evening. She doesn’t respond to my greeting. “A little tighter,” she chips in after a minute.

“Thanks.”

“Why are you doing a medic’s job?”

“They’re overworked right now and I’m not.” I finish and turn to face her. From the corner of my eye I can see that Graves is a bit tense in the presence of the intimidating agent. “How are you doing? That battle was pretty rough.”

“I’ve had worse,” she answers evenly.

“How’s Barton?”

“Not bad, considering he was a human puppet for a while there.” She lets some vehemence color her tone. I examine my borrowed shoes, avoiding her hot gaze. “I’m holding you personally responsible for Loki’s actions after he wakes up.”

“That’s not unfair,” I say coolly as she spins on her heel and leaves. I give her a few minutes’ head start before having Graves guide me back to my room.


	3. Very Short Transition

“Where’s Graves?” I ask the agent sitting outside my door. I woke up an hour later today, so shouldn’t he be here already?

“He’s helping with paperwork. Do you know your way to the galley and sick bay?” I nod. I think so. If not, I can always ask. “Good. Don’t get into trouble.” With that, the agent hurries off, leaving me to my own devices.

I shake my head and make my way uncertainly toward the galley. I was thinking Graves might be gathering information from my interactions with others, but I guess he really was just babysitting.

Surprisingly, I only get turned around once on my way to breakfast. I eat alone, finding I somewhat miss Graves’s dull presence. Returning my tray, I notice a bunch of SHIELD water bottles on a counter. I take two and fill them before heading to Loki’s rom. At least I have one small task I’m counted on for.

 

———

 

After some long, boring hours of watching over Loki, I figure it’s time for lunch. I’m greeted in the hall by a booming voice. “Lady Paige!” I look up to see a giant Asgardian wall blocking my path. “I was just coming to ask if you would care to join me for lunch.”

I smile excitedly. I need someone to talk to; I’m going crazy. “What a coincidence; that’s where I’m headed now.” He grins, and we walk to the galley side-by-side, exchanging pleasantries and effectively blocking the hall.

Once we’re seated, I notice the mountain of food on Thor’s tray and can’t help but laugh. He looks at me questioningly. “I’m sorry. It’s just, you eat even more than my brother.” My smile turns to one of nostalgia as I think of Tom.

“I didn’t know you have a brother.”

“Thomas is going on sixteen, and my sister, Brianna, will be fifteen at the end of the year.”

He nods. “So you’re the oldest, too.”

“Yeah. It’s hard for me to think of my siblings as teenagers. My mental image for Tom is when he was eight, all smiles and hugs; I picture Bri when she was four and just the happiest little pixie. . . .” My smile falls. “Sometimes I would get all caught up in the past and not see the struggles they’ve developed.” And now I’m not there to even try and help them.

Thor sighs. “ . . . I understand. I love my brother, but I didn’t notice how far apart we had drifted.”

I nod solemnly. We eat in silence for a minute while I think of how to respond. “My relationship with my siblings deteriorated over several years. But we were starting to grow close again this year. Once we took the time to see each other for the people we are in the present, we were able to better understand each other and become close again.”

Thor considers this. “Do you think there is still hope for Loki and I?”

“If you both put in the effort, I believe you can become closer than ever.”

Several minutes pass uncomfortably while we contemplate our failures as older siblings. “I’m afraid he no longer wishes to be my brother,” Thor admits softly. His averted gaze is filled with a pain familiar to my heart.

“On the contrary, I think that’s all he’s ever wanted. You two need to acknowledge past offenses and misunderstandings and move forward with with open minds and openly unconditional love.” I think to my relationship with my sister and add carefully, “It will be hard and painful, and take time, but if you push forward with faith and love, it can happen.”

“ . . . You speak wise words for a woman so young.”

I smile weakly. “I try.”

 

———

 

I spend the rest of the day and all of the next almost entirely by myself — if you don’t count Loki, that is. I play puzzle games on the tablet and download and jam out to music (Tony, as he soon insisted I call him, said there was no cap on what we can spend on the tablets). I get a few awkward visits from Thor checking on his brother, and Steve comes to inform me when Coulson wakes up. Tony messages me sporadically. Once, he video chats from the lab with Dr. Banner — “Just Bruce is fine” — in the background.

After I give an official report for SHIELD, Tony drops by in person. He frowns at Loki’s unconscious form. “I don’t understand why you stay in here.”

I shrug. “Where else am I supposed to go?”

“You could hang out in the lab.” He leans against the wall, arms folded.

“I don’t think I’m allowed in there. Besides, I’d just be in the way.” Dr. Banner didn’t seem keen on talking to me when Tony called from there, and I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.

“You aren’t helping Loki, either.”

“I want to be there for him when he wakes up.”

Tony quirks a brow. “Do you like him or something?”

I shake my head. “I understand the situation the most.”

“He won’t appreciate it.”

I sigh. “He doesn’t have to. He needs someone to be there, and I can be.”

Tony stands up straight. “You’re a weird one, kid.”

“Yup.”

Tony shakes his head and leaves.

During this time, I read through the scriptures, hoping for some answers and guidance. I obviously can’t find a verse talking about movies being real, but I take what comfort I can in the one thing that hasn’t disappeared from my life.


	4. What even is jello?

I look up from the screen, feeling something has changed. I survey the room, but can’t put my finger on anything in particular. I return to the digital scriptures, but find I can’t focus. I honestly can’t remember much from the last hour of trying to read them. Sighing, I set the tablet aside.

That’s when I realize Loki’s breathing has changed. Is he waking up? I look over and watch as his skin slowly changes, the blue hue melting into a pale human tone and the patterns fading away. I can’t help but smile at this sign of recovery.

Loki’s eyes flutter open and he tries to push himself up to a seated position. Responsibility mode — and, I’ll admit, mom mode — kick in. I stand and lightly place a hand on his shoulder. He flinches at my touch.

“Let your body register it’s wounds first so you don’t cause any more damage.” I remove my hand and step back. He closes his eyes. I retrieve the two extra pillows from a small cupboard in the corner. Upon turning back around, I find him trying to sit up once more. I assist him into a reclined position against the pillows as best I can while he ignores me.

“I have to inform the guards that you are awake. It should only take a moment, and I’ll be right outside the door.” I am as brief as possible with the guards.

Handing Loki the bottle of water I have for him, I sit down and begin explaining. “Fury is on his way, and Thor will most likely rush here once he hears you’re up. I assume you remember everything up to losing consciousness at Stark Tower? Agent Barton retained his memory.” He just stares at me impassively. Okay, I’ll just keep working with that assumption. “You were taken to the helicarrier, where we are now. You were unconscious for four days. You have been acquitted of all crimes on Midgard.” Was that surprise I saw for a moment?

“When you fell unconscious, your wounds became evident, and you turned frost giant. The only ones to see you like that were the Avengers, myself, Fury, and a handful of agents. . . . Agent Coulson is on track for a full recovery. . . . Is there anything else you would like to know before Director Fury arrives?”

No response.

I give a small sigh. “You should drink some water.” I nod toward the untouched bottle at his side. He seems to ignore my advice at first, but takes a few sips shortly before Fury arrives, Thor on his heels.

“Brother! You have awoken!” Thor cries, rushing toward the bed with arms outstretched.

I quickly slip in between them. “Careful!” I warn.

He almost runs into me, but catches himself and drops his arms. Phew, I don’t think Loki’s body could have taken that level of bear-hug right now. For a moment, Thor seems to lose some of his boundless joy, but he shakes it off with a laugh. I step aside so he can speak to his brother.

He places a hand on Loki’s shoulder. “I’m glad to have you back, brother.” Thor grins, ignoring Loki’s newfound fascination with the far wall.

“Thor, if your reunion could wait a moment, I have business to discuss with Loki.” Thor nods and retreats a step. Fury gives him a pointed look. Thor hesitantly nods again and leaves the room. The Director then turns to me.

I shake my head. “I stay unless Loki says otherwise.” Said man makes no indication he even heard.

Fury glares at me before sighing and addressing Loki. “I don’t know what you did to earn her devotion, but you owe her. This kid convinced the Council to drop all charges from recent events and New Mexico. When you are recovered enough, you will return to Asgard with Thor. Until then, you are not to leave this room without Paige here or an agent. There will be no schemes, no tricks. If I catch wind of so much as a _prank_ , you will regret ever stepping foot in this world. Tread carefully. This girl and Thor may trust you, but I sure as hell don’t.” With that, he spins on his heel and strides out the door.

Thor reenters before the door shuts. “May I speak with him?”

I frown. “I told Fury I wouldn’t leave unless Loki asked me.”

Thor nods, understanding. He walks forward and kneels by Loki’s side, taking one of his hands in both of his own. Loki snatches his hand away, a look of offense on his face. Thor begins to speak. “Brother, I—“

“I’m not your brother; I never was! Get that through your thick skull,” Loki snarls. He then rolls on his side, facing the wall.

“I have failed you. I know apologies won’t suffice, but if you give me another chance, I am going to learn how to be a better brother.” Thor leaves the room. I sigh inwardly. Loki needs to learn what family means, but now is not the time.

“I’m going to go get us lunch. I won’t be long.” The wall must be very interesting, because he doesn’t even acknowledge me.

One of the guards speaks as the door closes behind me. “It’s not too late to back out, you know.”

“You’re right. It’s too soon,” I reply without breaking stride.

 

———

 

I return to find Loki either asleep or pretending. “I brought lunch.”

Nothing.

Okay. Either way, I’ll leave him be.

An hour later, he rolls onto his back to stare at the ceiling. “Now that you’re up, you should eat.” He seems to engage in some kind of internal struggle about that.

I move the swiveling table so it’s over his lap. “I brought jello,” I say, pointing out the small, colorful plastic cups and plastic spoon. He looks at his lunch with a mix of confusion and revulsion.

“Jello is a brand of gelatin. I don’t really know what it is besides artificial color, artificial flavor, and probably corn starch. In fact, the varieties are known by color rather than flavor.” Today’s flavors are orange and green.

He isn’t moving, so I open the cups. Still no response.

“Gelatin used to have bone marrow in it, so it had protein. I don’t know if it has any nutritional value anymore, but it’s what they made my mom eat after her back surgery. Maybe the hope of better food is supposed to motivate you to get better.” I shrug. I realize I’m probably discouraging him from eating at this point. “Anyway, you need to eat. And drink water. You know, fuel your cells and whatnot.”

I pause. “ . . . If you eat, I’ll stop rambling about jello.”

He takes a tentative bite of the orange goop and cringes before setting the spoon back down.

“A few decades ago it was popular to make entire meals based on jello. I could tell you about the stuff they put in it.” After that, he works almost straight through his lunch, though slowly. Whenever he seems like he’s quitting, I start naming things like carrots, strawberries, and other stuff in jello casseroles and salads. After spam — “That’s canned leftovers from meat production” — he stops pausing. I’m reminded of the food challenges on Fear Factor, when the contestants would rush and try not to gag, clearly hating the task but motivated by the money.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, tossing the plastic cups in the trash. “I just want you to get better.”

“Why? So you can feel like a good person after they ship me off to Asgard?”

“I—“

“You must feel so good about yourself, playing nurse to the poor villain,” Loki spits, glaring. “And when I’m all healed, you’ll wave farewell as you send me off to my death and move on with your life,” he adds darkly.

I try to reassure him. “They’re not going to execute you.”

“Stop lying to yourself!” His voice is laced with venom, but also pain.

“Please, just—”

Wild eyes stare me down. “Just let you pretend you aren’t hastening my end? Let you live this fantasy and then just walk away, just like everyone else?” His voice cracks a bit.

“I’m going with you!” I blurt out. “I’m going with you and Thor to Asgard.”

He stops and blinks a few times. “No mortal has ever traveled using the Tesseract.”

I’m glad he’s no longer becoming hysterical. “That’s why I’ve written down what I mean to say. I’m going to give Thor the letters before we go, in case I don’t get to say my piece in person.”

Loki’s eyes widen, realizing I’ve thought this through. He cocks his head. “Before, you tried to bargain for your safety.”

My eyes trail away. “I’ve never feared death.”

“You knew the invasion could be thwarted.” He shakes his head. “And your family?”

“They’re not here.”

“So you choose to waste your time caring for me in my last days?”

I look him in the eyes. They are no longer wild, but resigned. “I told you, they’re not going to execute you.”

He shakes his head and barks a hoarse, unfeeling laugh. “I don’t know what you told the Midgardian authorities, but Odin won’t care and won’t listen to a mortal.”

I fiddle with my thumbs. “His verdict was meant to be imprisonment, not execution. Given how things have . . . strayed . . . from their natural course, you may even get off on house arrest.”

He leans forward. “You seem certain I don’t face death. So why come? What do you intend to do?”

“I have a solid case with evidence and at least one witness and Thor by my side.”

His eyes narrow. “But what do you intend? What more lenience do you expect the Allfather to give?”

“I was hoping . . . that he would allow you to stay on Midgard for a time. Let you have a, um, vacation of sorts? I can’t imagine you’d wish to return to Asgard for a while yet. But I could be wrong, of course.”

“And why would I rather spend my time on this miserable planet?”

I shrug. “Is there another option?”

He leans back. “So I am to stay with SHIELD on house arrest? That doesn’t sound like a vacation.”

“Actually, uh — of course on the stipulation that you don’t prove to _actually_ be a crazy super villain — Tony has offered to let us stay in Stark Tower.”

He raises a brow. “Us?”

“It’s not like I have anywhere to go, either. My past is nonexistent here. I have no family or home to return to . Even if Tony is helping mostly out of curiosity, it’s the best I’ve got right now.” Loki grows silent, appearing to mull over his new options. I sit back in my seat and take a sip of water to soothe my anxiety.

Loki nods toward his bottle. “How often will this be filled?”

“Pardon?” Did I hear him right? What does he mean? Ohmygosh, he doesn’t think — oh no. He averts his gaze.

I gently shake my head. “I’m sorry. Um, I’ve been refilling it every morning, waiting for you to wake up, but I can refill it whenever you want, or an agent can when I’m not here. We can get you something when you’re hungry, too. Your only restrictions are having an escort and not overdoing it as you heal.” He nods in understanding, but I can see in his eyes that he doesn’t truly believe me. His body isn’t all that needs healing.

I smile warmly and pull the second tablet out of my bag. “Tony gave each of us a tablet computer; this one is yours.” I scotch my chair closer to the bed so I can show him how it works, how to customize it, and the apps I downloaded for him (books, puzzle games, some music, and a white noise app).

 

———

 

I’m sick of sitting here in silence. I look over to Loki. “So, is green your favorite color, or do you just wear it because it looks good on you?”

Loki smirks and raises a brow. “You think I look good in green?”

“Well, yeah.” I wave a hand flippantly. “Obviously you think so too, or you wouldn’t wear it. But do you actually like the color? I mean, my mom used to buy me a lot of ruby red because it looked good on me, but I never really liked red.”

He returns his gaze to his tablet. “I don’t understand the point of the question.”

“It’s one of those get-to-know-you things people do. And I’m honestly curious.”

“What’s _your_ favorite color?” he asks without looking up.

“In general, I like greens and blues; rich browns are nice, too.” I hum as I think, also hoping for him to respond. “But for a specific color, my favorite is an orangey coral. It’s a content kind of happy, not too loud but still full of joy. . . . It reminds me of happy summers spent in Florida with family, back when we all got along, . . . before I tried to be independent, . . . before I was a disappointment.” My voice has grown quieter. “ . . . It’s the color my mom chose for my accessories when I was still a doll for her to dress up.” I bring my knees up to my chest and curl up tight. “Maybe I should avoid coral for awhile,” I add, my voice now a whisper.

I pull at my earlobes. “I’m sorry. I just, I never really had any friends. My family was my whole life. Despite everything, I’m going to miss them. Family, school, and church. That was my life.”

“And now it’s all gone.”

“Yeah.” This wasn’t my goal in starting this conversation. It’s time to lighten up again. “But now I get to define myself, discover who I am without all the labels they gave me. I just have to remind myself of that every now and then. Besides, even if I could go back, it wouldn’t be to what my heart holds onto,” I muse. “I treasure a past long gone, one the family has mostly forgotten. We’ve all grown and changed, drifted apart; those times are never going to come back.” That wasn’t very positive Paige; you should stop trying to drive conversations.

“ . . . I do happen to prefer green.” His raven hair blocks his view of my small smile.

 

———

 

I smile graciously at the agent that opens the door for me; I had been fully prepared to hit the button with my elbow.

“I made the executive decision that you are an adult and know your body best and can therefore choose what you want for dinner.” I set a full cafeteria tray in front of Loki and bow theatrically before taking my plate of chicken dinner and glass of juice. “Tonight we have orange and green jello, chicken, green beans, mashed potatoes and gravy, fruit cups for dessert, and pink lemonade.” He rolls his eyes at my grandiose gestures and tentatively tries a bite of chicken. He seems pleased, but not excited, yet after I finish praying I open my eyes to find hard his plate already eaten!

I giggle. “Just don’t make yourself sick,” I say with a smile. I hope this makes up for earlier.

He downs the lemonade and savors each piece of syrup-drowned fruit. I make a mental note that Loki has a sweet tooth. He eats everything but the jello.


	5. Magic

“Wow!” I exclaim as I unwrap Loki’s bandages in the morning. “You’re healing a lot faster now!” I think he’s healed more in the past day than the whole time he was unconscious. I begin applying the salve Doctor Parker left to his back. “Is it because your magic is back?” I ask.

“What makes you think it was gone?” Loki responds, voice carefully even.

“That was the best explanation I could think of for why you were, um, in frost giant form. Is that how you would word it?” I frown to myself. I don’t really know how he changes forms. Is he a shapeshifter?

“Why would my magic have to be gone for me to be . . . like that?”

Because that’s what happened in _Dark World_. I choose my words as carefully as Loki. “Because you aren’t comfortable with it. Also, you turned back when you were waking up. I thus assumed it was unintentional and probably magic-related. Was it not?” A voice in the back of my head mentions something about when one assumes.

Loki waits to respond until I finish bandaging. He catches my eye. “Why do you care?”

I sit down across from him. “Curiosity. And I know your magic is important to you, so we’re not leaving until you’re all healed in that department, too.”

He narrows his eyes. “How _do_ you know these things?”

“I was wondering when you’d ask.” I smile gently, happy he’s finally engaging. “Where I’m from, this whole world — dimension, I guess — is fictional. It’s from a movie.” Does he know what that is? “A recorded play,” I elaborate. “So, I had seen some exposition, key points from your arrival on Midgard up to your return to Asgard, and some epilogue.”

He studies me for a moment. “You were a fan of this film.”

I take a deep breath. “Yes, so I’ve seen it multiple times and participated in a lot of analyzing of it and its characters.” I’m glad I’m not the blushing type, because that’s awkward.

“And that’s how you were able to defend me.” He speaks slowly, leaning forward slightly and searching for something behind my eyes.

I try to look as serious as possible. “Yes,” I respond, almost sternly. He knows there’s more. He stares for a moment before nodding and settling back against the pillows.

I let out a breath of relief and nod in return. “I’ll go get breakfast,” I say quietly and exit the room.

 

———

 

Shortly after breakfast, Loki speaks without looking up from his tablet. “There is something you wish to ask.”

I jump a little. How closely is he watching me? It’s not like I was staring at him or anything obvious. “Well, it’s kind of . . . .” I trail off. If I felt comfortable asking, I would have already. “I don’t think you’ll want to answer.” Especially not after our conversation earlier.

Loki rolls his eyes. “I cannot decide that if I don’t hear the question.” When I don’t respond immediately, he turns to me, brow raised.

Nervous as I am, I force myself to look him in the eye. “Um, well, you know that while you were unconscious you weren’t in aesir form. But touching your skin wasn’t harmful. I was wondering if that had something to do with your magic or because you weren’t raised in Jotunheim.” Abort eye contact, abort! “I don’t mean to pry,” I turn my gaze to the wall for a moment. “It’s just, I’m a biologist at heart and can’t help but be curious as to how that trait works.”

“You seem to be very curious about my magical abilities.”

My eyes snap back to his. “Well, yeah. It’s some kind of whole new world of how things work. I mean, I don’t even know _what_ it is. Is it energy or a process? Is it internal or external? Implicit or developed? Is it its own field of science, a mixture, or something else entirely? There’s just so much, and I know so little.”

He sets his tablet down and tilts his head curiously. “You want to know about magic itself?”

“Of course! What did you—” I furrow my brows. “Did you think I only wanted to know what you personally can do?” I shake my head. “I’d like to know that too, but it just eats at me that there is whole other fundamental part of things that I don’t even know the basics of. And it seems so fascinating!” I’ve started talking with my hands, gesticulating wildly in my excitement.

“You are aware that I know much about these questions you have, correct?”

“Do you mean—?” No, he can’t mean it. “You would teach me about magic?” There’s no way. “You, _Loki_ , would spend time teaching me the basics?” I don’t have that kind of luck.

He looks confused. “Your tone does not relay the sarcasm I expected.”

My eyes go wide. Was that a yes? Is this happening? “Because I am genuinely honored. Can we start now?” I ask excitedly.

He shrugs and sits up straighter. “First, to answer your original question: I believe the effect of frost giant skin to be purely physical, not magical.” I make a mental note to research what could biologically cause such cold. “Your hypothesis of my not being raised in that realm may be correct, but I know little of frost giant physiology. My reasoning is based on what I know magic _is_ , which you also asked. It is both a type of energy and a number of processes of manipulating said energies. Magic is, to some degree, everywhere, including other dimensions, which it is sometimes drawn from. Some species are more attuned to this energy, and individuals can be born with varying levels of attunement or even internal magic. Have I lost you yet?”

I shake my head. “No, I think I get it. Magic is an essence that can’t really be placed neatly into a categorical, defining box, and is to some extent a category in and of itself.” I speak slowly, processing what I’ve learned as I articulate my understanding. “According to what you said about creatures and natural interactions with magic,” I think I’m applying this right, “your case for the Jotun frostbite effect is based on the improbability of an entire species passively expressing an identical magical effect. That would imply the energy, rather than capability to use it, to be hereditary.” That fits with what I know about biology: a species evolves through inherited tools, not inherited and thus somehow multiplied energy. Magic doesn’t sound like it converts to cell-usable chemical energy readily enough for daughter cells to even be given much, if any.

“You catch on quickly.” He says so neutrally, but I can’t help but smile.

“You have a higher-than-average natural attunement, right?”

“That is correct,” he says carefully.

“Do you also have inborn magic?”

“ . . . Yes. Why?” Loki answers warily.

I shrug. “I dunno, it’s just a really cool gift.” He seems taken aback at the word ‘gift’, but quickly recovers. “I’m glad you know it and are using it. I wish I knew my gifts like that. So, what species are naturally attuned to magic? Are the aesir one of them?”

“Well, there are many peoples in the universe. But to name some you may know, the aesir, light elves, and particularly the vanir are known for their magical attunement.” Asgard, Alfheim, and Vanaheim: the godly realms of Norse mythology. Hm. “The inborn capabilities of the aesir are the least of these races, and while magic is greatly integrated into their technology and warcraft, the direct manipulation of magical energies is more rare and considered feminine and lesser than physical prowess.” So magic is feminine and feminine is ‘lesser’. No way that would have damaged his psyche growing up.

“What about the vanir and light elves?” I don’t think I’ve heard about them. Except the vanir, maybe. Was it that Frigga is vanir? I know some of the Norse gods are.

“The vanir have much inborn talent and greatly value and appreciate the magical arts.” So Frigga could maybe be vanir? “The light elves fall between the two.” That’s officially all I know about light elves, now.

I remember! The vanir goddess is someone with a similar name. Duh. Frigga is still cool, though. “The difference between natural attunement and inborn magic: is it that being born with magic is more a matter of where the energy you use is, and attunement is more a knack for manipulating the energy?” I think I got this part, but I should clarify just in case. It seems like an important concept.

He nods. “In simple terms, yes. Having magic is essentially being magical, while attunement is more talent for using magic.” Mental note: learn what ‘magical’ means, what can be ‘magical’, and how.

I furrow my brows. “So what happens if you’re magical, but don’t know how to use it?” Is it dangerous? Bruce’s power, the Hulk, is pretty volatile if he doesn’t control it.

“You know how to use it, just in an instinctual and unrefined manner, and not to its full potential.”

I nod and ask my next question. “Is it possible to learn magic if you have no natural gifts?” If not, that would put those three races in a scary position within the nine realms.

Loki gives a small smirk. “Are you asking me for lessons?”

I shake my head. Don’t be ridiculous. “No. I was just wondering if magic could only be tapped by certain races and individuals.”

“In theory, anyone with the patience and mental aptitude can be taught to harness these energies.” Sounds familiar . . . .

“When you manipulate magic, what is it you are actually doing? Are you shaping magic or directing it?”

“That depends on what you are trying to accomplish. Magic is, to an extent, the energy of reality.” Dr. Strange. That’s why this is familiar. My one skim of a wikipedia page on Dr. Strange alluded to this.

I frown. “But when you create an illusion, the illusion itself is not a _thing_ , is it? I assumed that was more manipulating the mind.”

“An illusion is a shaping and placing of magical energy that affects one’s sense of what is there.”

I nod in understanding. “Because what we perceive of the universe is a form of reality?”

He smiles slightly. “Precisely.” Thank you, Theory of Knowledge class; you’ve finally paid off!

“So to understand magic, I really need to understand how reality works.”

“Yes,” he says seriously. “Where would you suggest we begin?” Is that excitement in his eyes?

I think his question through. First, I need to know what reality _is_. What’s new to me here? . . . Realms. Realms are a new concept. “I think with an explanation of Yggdrasil and the Nine Realms? Then move into multidimensionality. Understanding what connects worlds and dimensions would help me understand what they are.”

Loki smirks fully now and gives a slow golf clap. Is he mocking me? Did I do something wrong? “Congratulations; you’ve passed.” Where did he learn to slow-clap? Did he invent it?

“Passed . . . what? What was the test?” I wasn’t just learning?

“Before teaching you, I wanted to know if you would have a chance of following along.” Um, that seems fair enough?

“And you think I can?”

“You know how to ask the right questions and successfully deduced the first lesson in only a few minutes. Don’t get too excited, though. I can’t guarantee how far your understanding can reach.”

I narrow my eyes. I want to be insulted, but to be fair, he’s had a millennium to learn this. “I’d like to find out, if you’ll help me.”

He leans forward and studies me for a moment. “Let’s start with Yggdrasil.” He grabs his tablet and swings his legs over the side of the bed. He pats the space next to him. I grab my tablet, open up a document for notes, and eagerly hop up beside him, swinging my dangling legs in excitement. “What do you know, or think you know?”

Well, I know nothing with even the slightest degree of certainty. But I have heard a few things, though I’m not sure what is historical and what is Marvel. “Yggdrasil is a tree representation of how the nine realms are connected; I’m not sure if it refers to orientation and/or ranking of some sort. From the one or two diagrams I’ve seen, at the top are Asgard, Vanaheim, and Alfheim. At the base are Midgard and Jotunheim. At the roots are Hel or Helheim and Niffleheim, Sva-, uh, Svar-something-heim, and a fire one. I don’t remember what the dwarf one is called and I don’t remember if it’s at the branches or base; it maybe also starts with ’N’. There are bridges between the worlds — realms — which I think have something to do with the branches and roots. I think there are beings that exist mainly between the realms, rather than in them. That’s it.”

“Well, it’s something to work with.” Loki begins to draw a diagram on his tablet.


	6. Do two crazies make a sane?

“Paige, you okay?”

Startled, I look up to find Steve waiting by my door. I hadn’t noticed him; I was too busy thinking about everything I’ve learned. “Oh, hey.”

He comes up to me, looking very concerned. “He hasn’t done anything to you, has he?”

“What? No!” I shake my head. “I’m just . . . processing. He was telling me about the nine realms; it’s a lot to take in.”

“So you two have just been talking?”

I nod. “Well, not really until this afternoon, but yes.”

“That’s good. But promise to tell me if he even seems like he’s going to hurt you?”

“And me.” We turn to find Thor coming down the hall toward us. “You’ll tell me if my brother lashes out?”

“Yeah, of course I’d tell you. But I don’t think that’ll happen.”

“I’m glad you don’t think ill of Loki, but he is unpredictable.” Thor sighs.

“Um, thanks?”

“Paige, we’re actually here to ask if you want to join us for hot chocolate.”

I brighten instantly. “Hot chocolate? Of course!”

We chat idly on our walk to the nearby break room. For the next few minutes we enjoy each other’s company and the cocoa.

After a bit, Steve brings Loki up. “So, what do you think made him open up this afternoon?”

“Loki’s opened up to you?” Thor asks, nearly spitting his cocoa out.

I stir some more whipped cream into my drink. “I wouldn’t say he’s _opened up_ , but we’re talking, and I seem to have proven myself to be . . . worth his time?”

“What have you been talking about?”

“I asked a little question about magic, and he’s started teaching me. Well, we have to start with Yggdrasil first. And I had to pass some test showing I could maybe understand. But he’s seemed to enjoy teaching me, and it’s really interesting.”

Thor gets up and hugs me. “Paige, that’s fantastic!”

 

———

 

“You’re awfully quiet this morning.”

“I suppose I am.” I finish wrapping the gauze and step back. “You’re healing very well. At this rate, I may be able to remove the stitches tonight.”

Loki sighs. “What’s on your mind?”

I sit down. “I was just thinking about the summer I split my eyebrow is all. My grandma cleaned the wound every day and took the stitches out for me.”

“You miss them,” he says quietly.

I bring my knees up to my chest. “My family, . . . they’ve always been everything to me. My whole world, the good and bad. They’re my joy and my sorrow, my hopes and my fears.” We sit in silence for a moment, waiting for me to elaborate. I take a deep breath. “Loki, you know so much about realms and dimensions and the hidden paths between. Do you have any idea how I can get back?”

He looks down, fists clenching for a second. “I’ve been a fool,” he mutters almost inaudibly. He whips around to face me. “No, I know nothing of how you may get home. And there’s no point in coming to Asgard, because Frigga wouldn’t know either,” he says stonily.

My eyes go wide. “Loki, that’s not—”

“Leave.”

“No,” I state firmly.

“Don’t you see? I have nothing for you! I don’t know how you got here, and you’re not going to learn it from any lesson I can give.” He’s trying to look mildly annoyed, but I can see him digging his nails into his leg.

I shake my head. “I may be naive, but I’m not an idiot. Of course there’s no way I could understand such things in a manner of days. I was forthright with my curiosity. If you don’t believe me, then stop and think for moment: why would I try to figure this out on my own when I could just ask you? I have nothing to gain from manipulating you.”

He tilts his head slightly. “Then why didn’t you ask before? If your family means so much to you, why didn’t you ask the moment I first awoke?”

I begin to pick at the dirt under my nails. “ . . . I couldn’t bear to,” I say quietly. “I wanted to give you time . . . and . . . well, honestly, I’ve been putting it off.” My voice hitches. I didn’t want to get like this.

“Why put this off? What if I did know?”

“Exactly! What if you did?” I say frantically. “Then I would’ve had to make a choice.” I wrap my arms around my legs and settle my chin onto my knees. “I’d have to choose between here and there.”

He blinks a few times. “That doesn’t sound like much of a choice.”

Push it back down, Paige. Go back to logic and reason. “Well, I want to help you. I’ve never lied about that. It’s something I want to do . . . and it’s the most purpose I’ve ever had.” I take a deep breath and look up at the man in front of me. “And if I go back, well, what would happen? I couldn’t go back to the way things were. I’ve been missing for days, and I’d have to explain that. I’d be taken out of school and kept at home or locked in a mental hospital.” I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to keep back the tears. “Stifled in Michigan under the close watch of my family.” Of course, the tears almost always win.

“Being away at college was difficult, because family is everything to me and home is all I know, but it’s been the best thing that’s ever happened to me. For once in my life, I had the chance to start seeing myself as an individual.” I grow quiet. “And I realized I was a person I didn’t yet know. . . . If I go home, my life would be over, and my family would be forever weighed down with me.”

I wipe away the traitorous tears. Can’t I ever open the box without it spilling over? “It’s unforgivable to let them believe that something truly awful has happened to me — that I’ve probably died, and in some horrible way at that. But I can’t help but feel the alternative would be worse.” You made it back to reason. Stay with the logic, Paige.

Loki takes my words in for a moment while I stuff cram the hurt back, back into its little dark corner. “You put off choosing between your attachment and your sense of responsibility, both facets of your love.”

“Yes.”

“Is this why you don’t fear dying en route to Asgard?”

“Partially, yeah.” Oh, if only you knew how broken _I_ am. But the lid is back on tight and that beast can be held back for awhile.

“If your decision was only about _you_ , which would you choose? Here or there?”

This throws me off guard. I didn’t expect him to pry this much — or at all, really. “ . . . I don’t know. . . . As a person, my happiness doesn’t come from myself, and I don’t yet understand what success is for me.” I formulate my thoughts as I speak. “ . . . I might choose here, because either way I lose my family, but here I still have potential. I have nothing there, but here I at least have hope.”

He looks satisfied. “It sounds like the issue is not making the decision, but accepting the choice you’ve already made.”

_Hope_. “I suppose so.” Is that what this feeling is? It’s been so long. I look at Loki for a moment, then shake my head. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to push all of this back again, just until after Asgard.”

“You’re still going?” I nod. “Very well. Shall we continue with our lessons, then?”

“First, I,” I’m not letting it go this time. “ . . . I just want you to know that I have not and will not lie to you.” I’m not losing it again.

“ . . . Thank you.” Loki then resumes the lessons from where we left off last night.

 

———

 

“Hey, Steve!” I wave.

He looks to the man next to me with surprise. “Loki, it’s good to see you up and about,” he says, smiling nervously.

“Is it, now,” Loki mumbles.

“So, what’s up?” I ask, trying to cut through the tension in the hall. Steve Rogers might be real nice, but he’s no good at hiding when he doesn’t trust someone.

“I was coming to ask if I could join you two for lunch, since you’ve been cooped up in that room.”

“We’re on our way to the galley right now.” I look up at Loki. “I’m sure Steve could join us, right?”

He studies my face for a moment. He doesn’t turn to Steve when he answers. “I don’t see why not; it is a common space.” His tone is carefully neutral.

I beam up at him and turn back to the blond. “To the galley!” I declare, arm out as if directing a charge. Steve chuckles and leads the way.

When we enter the large room, something in my peripheral catches my attention. I stop and look over to see Tony waving wildly from a table at the back. “This table’s free!” he shouts, earning looks of distaste from the handful of agents in the room (I’ve noticed they don’t seem to be big on lunch). Bruce is sitting across from him, nervously keeping his eyes on Loki. Tony hops up and strides toward us.

“Do you always have to be so obnoxious?” Steve chastises half-heartedly. I look to my side to see Loki feigning disinterest.

I shake my head. “Hey, Tony. How goes it?”

“To be honest, Paige, not well.” He folds his arms dramatically and pouts. “A little birdie told me that my new friends got hot chocolate without me.” He sniffles.

I roll my eyes. “By ‘little birdie’, do you happen to mean the security cameras, _again_?”

“A rose by any other name, kiddo. Now, how are you going to make it up to me?”

“Hmm. I think having lunch with my favorite billionaire-playboy-philanthropist would do, even though I suspect he’s had Jarvis on stalker duty.”

Tony puts a hand to his chest, affronted. “I would _never_. Stalking is a _crime_.” We both lock eyes for a moment before breaking out into laughter.

I turn to Loki. “Well, it looks like we’re having a party,” I remark, grinning.

“I hear they even have cookies today,” Steve comments.

I whip around. “Did you say _cookies_?” Would they have baked them here? I rush toward the breads section of the buffet-style set-up the galley sports and excitedly examine the display of chocolate chunk and oatmeal raisin cookies. Two selections, not bad. They don’t look _amazing_ , but definitely enticing.

I turn back and skip toward the trays. Tony is grabbing a handful of fruit while Steve is already picking out his entree. Well, entrees. Another big blond that eats a freakish amount. I meet Loki at the start of the counter.

“What? Don’t give me that look!” I say lightheartedly as I grab a plastic tray. “I love cookies, okay? And I’ve noticed your sweet tooth, so you can’t say anything.”

“My brother’s sweet tooth is infamous!” Loki goes still as the booming voice behind him begins to laugh. I take a small step toward the smaller brother, trying to remind him that I’m there for him, as I smile up at Thor. “Well, this certainly is a pleasant surprise. I take it you are recovering well, brother.”

“You know we heal quickly,” Loki mutters without turning around. He takes his tray and heads further along the counter, pretending to be engrossed in deciding on what to eat for lunch.

I pat Thor’s arm. “I think I can take out the stitches tonight.”

He nods. “Thank you, Lady Paige.”

I shake my head. “Really, Thor, I am no lady.”

“I only mean to convey my respect.” He frowns.

“I know. Now come on, I have cookies waiting for me.”

“Cookies?” he replies confusedly.

“Food of the _gods_ ; goodness, Thor, you should know,” I tease lightly before quickly catching up to Loki.

I nudge him gently. “We don’t have to stay,” I whisper.

“I’m fine,” he mumbles.

We have to push a few tables together, but we all sit together for lunch. It’s awkward at first; Bruce fidgets nervously in his seat closest to the door, and Steve keeps sneaking glances at Loki from his place across from me. Next to Steve, Thor also very not-sneakily keeps checking on his brother, who in turn pointedly ignores him. My attention is split between worrying about Loki on one side and keeping up with Tony’s conversation on the other.

Shortly, Thor quietly excuses himself, having purposefully taken only a small lunch. I smile apologetically; he nods before hastily exiting the room. After the door closes behind his brother, I feel Loki relax next to me.

Steve breaks the silence. “So, Loki, have you been continuing teaching Paige?”

“Yes.”

“I hear you made her pass a test first.” Steve tries to engage him.

Loki elbows me. “What? I didn’t complain about it, I swear!”  
Steve puts his hands up. “I didn’t mean to sound accusing, just trying to make conversation.”

Loki sighs. “I wanted to know if she was open to the ways of thinking the subject requires.”

“I take it she passed?” Tony asks.

“Yes. Paige has proven herself to be quite capable of handling the subject.” Was that _pride_ I just heard?

I smile. “Well, I do have an expert teaching me.” Wait, American ‘quite’ or British ‘quite’?

Bruce chimes in for the first time this whole lunch. “What exactly have you been learning?”

“Loki’s been teaching me about Yggdrasil and the Nine Realms of Norse mythology. I asked about magic, and since it’s the energy of reality, I’m learning about reality itself, starting with realms and dimensions.”

“The energy of reality?”

Loki answers, “Yes. To be more precise, it is a category of energies and certain processes involving them.”

“What makes the energy we study not magic? Are not radiant, thermal, potential, chromodynamic energies all part of reality?” Tony asks, interest piqued.

“What’s chromodynamic energy?” I ask.

“It’s what binds quarks to form hadrons,” Bruce offers. I nod even though I only vaguely understand what those terms refer to.

“Those do indeed all exist _within_ reality, but they are not directly _of_ reality.”

“So what is reality, then, if not the culmination of all these things science studies?”

“That’s what I’ve been teaching Paige.”

Tony and Bruce look to me. I shrug. “As far as I understand at this time, the sciences we know serve to study a painting, but reality is the canvas.” I turn to Loki for confirmation. He is staring, eyebrows raised. “Way off the mark?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “No. Uncannily accurate. You’ve understood more than I thought.” That’s definitely pride this time.

The rest of our lunch passes easily, though Steve and I quickly lose track of the conversation as it evolves into a hardcore scientific discussion between Loki and Tony. But Steve seems to slowly warm to Loki, and Bruce fidgets less and gradually but fully engages in the conversation.

I skip most of the way to Loki’s room and can’t help but twirl a few times once inside. Loki coughs, brow raised in amused question. “I think that went well, don’t you?” I say cheerily.

“I suppose. They don’t trust me.”

“Of course not, they’re just getting to know you. They don’t trust me either. _But_ , they don’t distrust you, now.”

I move to take my seat. “Oh! I forgot to ask! Chocolate chunk or oatmeal raisin: which was better? I thought the oatmeal was too dry, but I liked them both.” He just shakes his head, but a small smile plays on his lips.

 

———

 

When I first told Loki I was the one tending his ones, he scoffed. Why would I be in charge of that? I had sternly told him I was someone with the time and care for it, shutting him up and leaving the evening with tense memories of the attack on the helicarrier. He was uncooperative with my questions, making tending his wounds as difficult with him awake as it was with him asleep.

Tonight, he helps me remove the stitches. We chat idly as I apply the salves and change the bandages. He even notes that my bandaging has improved.

 

———

 

The next morning, we decide against replacing the bandages.

I see a familiar agent as Loki and I enter the galley. “Graves!” I exclaim.

He looks over, acknowledges us, then goes back to spreading cream cheese on his bagel.

I run over. “Hey, long time, no see!”

He hums in response. Loki slowly walks up beside me. “Loki, this is Agent Graves. He was my babysitter for all of two days.” I turn back to the agent. “So, are you caught up on paperwork yet?”

“No.” He takes his bagel over to a table and pulls out a sudoku book.

“Rude,” Loki comments.

“Nah, he just has social problems. Quiet guy doesn’t say much, straight to the point.”

“I see.”

The rest of the is spent in magic lessons between meals, which are spent in the galley. Steve, Natasha, and Clint join us for lunch, and the science bros join us for dinner.

 

———

 

“How are you feeling this morning?”

“Nothing but a few scars.”

I shake my head. “It’s ridiculous how fast you heal, you know that? It’s like _magic_.” We both laugh for a moment. “So, um, speaking of which . . . .” I shift from foot to foot.

“I’m about back to normal, magically speaking.”

I nod. I inform the guards of such on our way to breakfast. Thor greets us there. “Brother, you look much better!”  
“And yet, I am still not your brother.”

I elbow Loki. “He’s well enough, now,” I tell Thor.

Thor nods. He attempts some small talk before leaving us to eat our breakfast in silence.

Before we enter Loki’s room, one of the guard agents informs us that the Avengers have left for New York and gives us a schedule for tomorrow’s departure. We spend the rest of the day alternating between lessons and playing on the tablets. Loki has me bring lunch and dinner to the room, as before.


	7. An End and a Beginning

I give up and pull up the message app on my tablet. _Are you awake?_ I message Loki. It’s almost one in the morning, and I’m sick of just tossing and turning in bed.

He responds in under a minute. _why_

_I can’t sleep. Can I come over?_

His response, though dismissive, is almost immediate. _fine_

Loki speaks as I close the door. “You don’t have to go.” He is sitting up in bed, the room lit by a lamp near the bed.

“I’m going,” I respond firmly.

“You’re afraid,” he states.

“I don’t want to mess this up.” I take my usual seat by his bed. “You responded almost immediately; how are you doing?”

He frowns. “Don’t deflect this onto me.”

“Okay.” I don’t know what to do, but just sitting here is gonna kill me. “Loki?”

“Yes?”

“Would you tell me about the nine realms?”

He scoots so there is almost room for two to recline on the pillows, then pats the empty space he made. I should protest, or at least hesitate, but I trust Loki too much and I’m tired, anxious, afraid, and sure he feels the same way. Wordlessly, I climb up next to him. I’m on my side, forced to lean into him a bit, glad for the rail to hold me in. Loki wraps an arm around my shoulder, making the space more comfortable and freeing his hand for painting an illusionary Yggdrasil in the air. “Which realm do you want to hear about?”

“Please tell me about Vanaheim. I want to hear about the land of magic.”

Before long, I can’t help but be lulled by Loki’s gentle voice and images of serene meadows and majestic forests. I know he’s doing it on purpose; his teaching tone is very different. Before nodding off, I promise myself I’ll thank him in the morning.

 

———

 

“We need to get up,” a voice whispers in my ear. Who-what-where?

My eyes fly open as I push away from the body next to me. I’m almost confused to see Loki, but I quickly remember how I got here.

A sigh escapes my lips as my body relaxes. “What time is it?”

“Eight-forty.” We have to be at the flight deck in twenty minutes. “I thought you could use the sleep, and the flight is long enough for you to collect yourself.”

I turn to stare at him, taking in this kindness and familiarity, trying to absorb every detail; this is surely the last I’ll see it. This was mostly a strange result of two anxious and fearful people desperate for comfort, anyway. “Thank you. And thank you for last night.”

“Now you just sound like a lover,” he says, grin cocked.

I chuckle, and he follows suit. It quickly turns to full-blown laughter. At the strangeness of last night. At our weird friendship. At the surrealness of the day. At the absurdity of everything.

All too soon, the guards inform us it’s time to leave. I tuck our few belongings into my bag and we exit the room, escorted to the hangar by eight agents, all of whom I recognize as having guarded Loki’s door. I stay close by Loki’s side, wary of how the other agents and even some of our escort look at him, waiting for the escape they think he’ll attempt; we all know it’s the perfect day for it.

I pretend to be Princess Leia, walking tall and proud, disdainfully locking eyes with any who stare at Loki, until we are ushered into a quinjet and it’s just the ten of us. I thank one of the kinder agents as she hands us some fruit she had promised, since we were advised not to go to the galley today. Not only is this the obvious time for Loki to run if he so planned, but the Avengers had all left the flying fortress the day before. A part of me suspects the escort is as much for his protection as it is to keep him from running. A smaller part wonders if I would be a target for defending and befriending him, but I squash that thought instantly; it does me no good.

Loki and I distract ourselves by testing my knowledge from our lessons, him quizzing me like a tutor prepping his pupil for a test.

 

———

 

An agent opens the door. I slide out of the car and look around at our little guarded space in Central Park. I suddenly forget the goodbyes I had prepared as the weight of the situation crashes down on me. But as I feel Loki join my side, I push down the nerves. I walk over to the Avengers.

Steve meets me halfway, catching me in a big hug. “When you get back, we’re signing up for dance lessons.”

I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn to see Bruce smile reassuringly. I smile back.

Tony strides over. “Geesh, stop acting like it’s a funeral, guys.” He turns to me. “I’ll hold onto your bag until you get back.”

I pull out a thick manila envelope before handing him the satchel. “Thanks.”

“You’re a brave kid, knowingly walking into Pepper arranging a life for you.” I chuckle lightly and shake my head.

Thor spins me around and catches me in a bear hug. “It’ll all work out,” he says. He then pulls away and takes the transport device from Tony with a nod. “She’ll be back soon,” he says as we step away. “They both will.” I nod at Natasha and Clint as we pass. When we reach the center of the area, I hand Thor the envelope. “What is this?”

“Letters. If I don’t make it to Asgard, there’s one labeled for Loki’s defense. If I make it, burn the ones labeled ‘If I’m not there’, okay?”

“You’ll be fine.” He doesn’t look so sure, though.

“Just promise you’ll take care of those,” I say, taking the end of the device opposite him. He nods solemnly. Loki comes up beside me and takes hold of the handle was well.

“Are we ready?” I nod. Loki must have, too, because Thor rotates his handle and all at once I feel stretched, squished, and spinning. I squeeze my eyes shut instinctively. As suddenly as the strange feeling started, it stops.

I rub my eyes, trying to clear the vertigo and take in the grand throne room we now stand in. Thor is shouting at someone, “Loki will stay here and stand trial _now_.” He is waving at guards to back off. They are looking between him and the end of the room, unsure of the situation. I follow their gaze until my eyes rest upon a rapidly angering Odin, risen from his throne. Frigga is trying to calm him, while Heimdall looks us over. His eyes come to meet mine. I give a small wave. This catches Odin’s attention.

“Why have you brought a mortal?” he yells, outraged. The way we are oriented, I am mostly behind Loki. I step out into the open, hoping it didn’t look like I had been hiding, swallowing down the instinct to do just that.

“She is here to speak on Loki’s behalf,” Thor explains. I perform the small bow they taught me.

“Loki has never found difficulty with words,” Odin points out angrily.

“And yet you have never listened,” Loki spits.

I elbow his side. “Now is not the time,” I mutter quickly. Then louder, “Please forgive him, Your Highness; he has been through much. What he means to say is that I bring a third-party perspective on recent events.”

“I need no _mortal’s_ opinions on the rulings of my court.”

“Father, she brings knowledge of past, present, and future to inform your ruling, for the sake of justice and mercy. I’m sure Heimdall can reaffirm this.”

The Allfather turns to his most trusted advisor. Heimdall’s rich voice fills the room. “She has seemed to understand recent events on an uncanny level.” Thanks for the neutrality. Really.

“From where does your knowledge stem, child?” How can someone make one sentence sound so condescending?

“Where I am from, this all exists within cinema, recorded theatre. I don’t know how I came to be here, or where and what _here_ is in relation to my home, but so far where I have not interfered, the stories have lined up perfectly with recent events.”

None off his doubt seems to have left. “Prove to me that your stories are more than mortal mythology.”

I hold back a glare. You want clear, undeniable proof? Fine. I came ready to recite all of my knowledge. “Well, the mythology of my home differs vastly from reality here, and I know at least some of it differs from the mythology here, as well. For a start, our Odin is indeed sovereign of aesir, but spends most of his time wandering the realms as a hermit, while his son Thor keeps the peace. The royal family has much more than aesir blood, and Loki is an entirely separate being more-or-less of Odin’s generation. Of course, I can’t prove this of our mythology. But I know a history this Midgard doesn’t.” I was going to be calm and diplomatic, but that only works when both parties cooperate. You asked for this, Odin.

I take a deep breath and begin reciting. “The first thing that Jotun infant did when you picked him up was to change his physicality to match yours. That infant was later taught to despise Jotuns, and his brother made a promise at a young age to kill every last one of them. I’ve seen Thor’s coronation day. ‘Do you think he’s ready?’ ‘He thinks he is. He has his father’s confidence.’ ‘He’ll need his father’s wisdom.’ ‘And his humility? Thor won’t be alone. Loki will be at his side to give counsel. Have faith in your sons.’ Playful teasing between brothers to ease the tension. Silly feathers, ridiculous cow horns. ‘You’re incapable of sincerity.’ ‘Sometimes I’m envious, but never doubt that I love you.’ Guards fall in an attack from a few Jotuns. The Destroyer defends the Casket. Thor gets the fight he seeks in Jotunheim. To some, it’s a game. A pale arm turns black. Another, blue. A life is shattered and comes into clarity in the same moment. Two kings duel. A prince is cast out, a life vest tossed after. ‘I love Thor more dearly than any of you.’ ‘Laufey said there were traitors in the House of Odin.’ For what, really, are an older sibling’s friends? ‘Am I cursed? What am I?’ ‘You’re my son.’ ‘What more than that?’ ‘An innocent child.’ Purpose? Union, alliance. ‘Another stolen relic. The monster parents tell their children about at night.’ The king’s blood, that’s what distinguished the prin—”

“Paige.” A clear, authoritative voice breaks my trance. My vision returns to find Loki close, one hand forcing me to look into his near-wild eyes. I can feel where his other hand has been gripping my arm, a bruise certainly already forming.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

He backs away and takes a breath to compose himself, refusing to meet my gaze. I watch him until he turns towards the throne. As I let my eyes wander back toward Odin, I see Thor’s friends, looking rather embarrassed and irritated. It makes it hard to push the strange occurrence to the back of my mind, but I swallow down my confusion and fear enough to look Odin in the eye.

“You failed to mention that you are a seer,” he says slowly.

“I didn’t—” That was nigh inaudible. Deep breath. Let’s try again. “As far as I am aware, I am no such thing. What I said about my knowledge coming from cinema is true.”

Odin is about to say something, but Frigga whispers in his ear. He considers something for a moment, then nods. “Tell us your outside perspective. From the beginning.”


	8. Paige Bauer: Kid Lawyer

“Very well.” I nod and close my eyes, taking another deep breath to steady myself.

“Don’t.” Loki grips my arm again, which I can now tell is definitely bruised.

“Wha- oh. I wasn’t going to.” I shake my head. “I don’t even know what happened before. I’m just going to give the Asgard version of my argument. You might not like what I have to say, but trust me. Unless I trance again, in which case please stop me!” He nods and steps back.

I clasp my hands in front of me to control their shaking. I turn toward the throne. Heimdall and Frigga are studying me carefully. I do my best to ignore them and keep my eyes on Odin. “Your Highness, will you hear me through?”

“You have my word.”

My eyes widen. “Thank you.” One last deep breath. Here it goes. “When the intruders were discovered in the vault, you refused to label it an act of war, instead prioritizing a treaty focusing on defenses. Thor demanded blood and invaded Jotunheim under loose pretense to investigate Laufey’s intentions, against your orders. He survived only due to his friends’ and Loki’s determination to protect him from his brashness and due to Loki’s arrangement for rescue by you.” Why was I mentioning that? Oh yeah, establishing Loki’s mind for planning. “You exile the aggressor, stripping him of his title, power, and place in the family. However, you clearly give him a chance to grow and redeem himself. Loki confronts you about his heritage, finally realizing why he was never good enough.” Am I giving a play-by-play of the movie or my argument? The scene is so fresh in my mind I’m speaking in present tense.

“As soon as he met you as an infant, he tried to change himself to please you. He wanted nothing more than to make you proud and to belong. He came to the understanding that all of his efforts failed because not only was he the antithesis of everything Asgardian in his personality, talents, looks even, but he was the monstrous and inferior sworn enemy of the aesir.” I remember having that phrased better. How did I word this before? “Loki found that his struggles of being an outsider were due to quite literally being an alien in the society, and his father, that father he only ever wanted to please, kept him as a pawn for a future diplomatic scheme, possibly to be a puppet ruler over a people he only knows horrible stereotypes about.” What happened to my argument of reason?

“You fell into the Odinsleep and this issue was left not only unresolved, but accelerated and aggravated as war loomed on the horizon. A single year of emotional abuse within a family, even if not all members participate, can permanently scar a person, impeding their mental and emotional stability; being raised with it builds a crippled self-image.” I didn’t want to rely too much on sympathy. Why was this part of my argument? “Loki endured over a millennium of emotional abuse, from an entire society, living in the shadow of a golden child who earned praise too easily.” Asgardians don’t care about psychology. “He was then thrust upon the throne to clean up after said golden child and prevent what could be a very terrible war.”

Bring this argument back on track, Paige! “At this point, I would expect to hear the argument that the whole incident was caused by Loki himself. I would like to make two things clear: there is no reason to believe Loki wanted either war or the throne. No indication was made, but people always try to read between the lines, especially when they are already prejudiced against a person.” This is the part where I establish character. I think. “Thor’s power may come from strength and publicity, but Loki’s does not. His power comes from cunning and manipulation. Such a man is hindered on a throne and knows it. Such a man also gains nothing by a war. Wars are for egos; missions and skirmishes are for politics. The only logical reason for Loki to have orchestrated the breach of the vault was to _prevent_ war with Jotunheim, because the brash and cocky man being crowned had promised it for centuries. If it blew out of proportion, well, you can count on brashness, but stupidity is unpredictable.” I hate dragging Thor through the mud for this, but I need the contrast exaggerated for Loki to look good.

“With that, Loki had to work even harder to prevent war, because not only had Asgard’s defenses proven lax, but Jotunheim was aggravated and had proven to randomly be capable of travel between the realms in the last war.” Wait, is that last part true? I thought that’s what the Casket was for. And they only got here this time because of Loki. “The crown prince, who had been intolerant and belligerent for centuries, had been exiled.” Oh well, I didn’t confess to know everything, just provide a perspective. What’s said is said. “He should remain that way because he was definitely a catalyst for violence, and also, a regent can’t really rescind the king’s decrees.” Not on Midgard, anyway. “However, the regent was most certainly seen as weak by the potential enemy. He had to prevent a war the enemy king desired. So he cunningly tricked the second aggressor and orchestrated an assassination, weakening the enemy. They would then either stand down or be taken over.” Why didn’t I write my damn argument down? That’s right, I did, just not for _me_ to read. And not ‘oh well’, this is Loki’s hearing!

“However, a number of supposed friends and sworn allies to the throne committed treason on the basis of liking Thor better — though Heimdall at least had reason for mistrust — and tried to bring back the catalyst. Heimdall, by the way, was protected from incoming enemies. Loki tried to prevent the first aggressor’s return, but somehow the golden child managed to redeem himself in a manner of days through the same methods he used before and made it back. As far as anyone knew, he _still_ intended to incite war with Jotunheim, so the only way to avoid the destruction of both peoples was to wipe out Jotunheim before Asgardian soldiers got involved. During the scuffle at the Bifrost, Loki tried to stall Thor without killing him.

“In the end, Loki was faced with the consequences of horrible crimes — since he was already presumed guilty — was on the brink of suicide and while on said brink was rejected by his father in his last appeal for approval, the unreachable hope that abused children are manipulated into living for.” Not that I think I can really guilt Odin with just that, so let’s wrap up with recent events.

“And yet somehow the pain didn’t end, because Loki ended up in the hands of the chitauri. A year later, he appeared on Midgard, clearly tortured just by looking at him. He led an invasion on Midgard, a rather insignificant realm to an Asgardian and strange intention for a man who desires neither a throne nor war. He was supposedly allied with the chitauri, who are arguably more monstrous than how the frost giants are viewed, and he hates himself for being a frost giant. Also, no one noticed his normally green eyes were the same blue as those he seemed to be mind-controlling.

“Since all of this still ended with me having to plead Loki’s case in court, I will state the final fact of the matter clearly: the leader of the chitauri was a servant of the mad Titan, Thanos. I assert that Loki’s actions before the coronation were reasonable, his actions as regent were legal, and his actions on Midgard were not of his own free will.” I let out a deep breath, starting to understand why people plead guilty.


	9. For what, really?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: night terrors

A moment of silence passes. Did I ramble too much? Another moment. Did my argument have too many assumptions? Though my resolve wavers, I keep my eyes on Odin. Odin looks at everyone but me. This is it, isn’t it? I didn’t try hard enough — my argument wasn’t good enough — I wasn’t good enough.

Another beat of agonizing silence passes before the Allfather speaks. “Loki is acquitted of all crimes.”

Thank God, gosh, goodness — thank it all! I turn to look at the man beside me to find him staring blankly at the ground near the throne, fists clenched so hard I swear I see blood.

“Do you desire anything else, seer child?” Odin asks.

Still watching Loki, I slowly open my mouth, then close it again. I feel my throat begin to swell closed. I knew this would happen. I knew he would hate me. I knew. . . . I promised myself he would get past this. The alternative was his end; he has to get through this.

Thor speaks up. “Loki has been invited to stay on Midgard.” _For what, really, are an older sibling’s friends?_ My words seem echo louder than Thor’s shaky voice. I look over to him to see he has been balling his eyes out.

I turn back toward Loki. “Do you still want that?” I manage to ask. He doesn’t respond, but I know what he’s thinking: there is no way he can ever show his face here again.

And that’s it. The tears break free. I don’t have what it takes to stop them.

“That sounds like a nice plan.” I look up at the soft voice, finding the queen has come over to us. “Loki, dear.” She turns him so his back is to the throne. I shuffle over to Thor, trying to ignore Frigga’s whispers to her son. Thor’s friends and the guards have left. So has Heimdall, not that it really makes a difference for him, but the gesture is appreciated.

I follow Thor a little way from Frigga and Loki. He stops and speaks without turning around. “Seers don’t lie.”

“I’m not a seer.”

“Regardless, your words are true,” he says, turning to face me. Seeing his distress, I instinctively close the gap and wrap my arms around him.

“He’s strong, Thor. He’ll get past this and continue to amaze us all.” Strong arms return my embrace.

“And when he returns, hopefully I’ll be worthy of being his brother.” He gives a tight squeeze before letting go and nodding toward something beside us. “Father.”

I step back from Thor, wipe my eyes, and turn to face Odin. “Your Highness, I apologize for my attitude. I do very much respect the weight and responsibilities you bear.”

“But you do not apologize for your words.”

“I cannot.”

“Good. Do not apologize for speaking truth. A good seer lives for truth and should never be ashamed of it.”

“Your Highness, I don’t understand why you are calling me a seer.”

“The queen will explain. Go ask her.” I glance over to where she and Loki are. They are a bit apart now, standing in strained silence. I nod to the Allfather and begin tentatively walking toward Frigga.

As I walk, my vision darkens, and the ground jumps up to meet me.

 

———

 

Why is it so bright? I just want to sleep.

Wait. I shouldn’t be sleeping. What was I doing? Oh yeah, talking to Odin. So why am I asleep?

Ugh, did I pass out? I passed out. I hate passing out. I hope I didn’t land on my face again. I open my eyes and wait for the world to come into focus.

Not Asgard. Definitely not Asgard.

Bruce’s face appears. “How do you feel?” he asks in his doctor voice, shining a penlight in my eyes.

I move a hand to cover my face and slowly sit up. “Fine, just, don’t do that. That makes things worse. It’ll make me sick.” I bring my legs up to my chest and rest my cheek on my knees, taking in the room. I’m in Stark Tower. The whole team is here (except for Thor), all with expressions of varying degrees of worry. I’m just happy my face doesn’t hurt and my stomach is calm. The other times I’ve passed out, I woke up, er, _queasy_.

Then I see Loki standing away from the rest of the group, glaring daggers at me. I swear those daggers reach into my chest, stabbing and twisting. But when I close my eyes, I see his face as he let himself fall into oblivion, and I remember why I did it. I open my eyes again to find Loki no longer glaring, but still looking very upset.

I turn toward the rest of the group. “So, um, anyone want to fill men in? Last I remember, I was talking to Odin.” Tony shrugs. Bruce, who had backed away when I sat up, gives no answer.

“Loki won’t say. He just appeared with you in his arms on the roof,” Steve supplies, leveling a glare at said man. It pales in comparison to the death ray I was subject to a moment ago.

“You’ve been lying there for about twenty minutes,” a new voice pipes up. “Any longer, and I think Loki would’ve been torn to shreds.”

“Twenty minutes, huh? That’s a new record,” I mumble. I think the most I’ve been out is about two minutes, but no one would tell me the details, so I’m not sure. I stretch my legs out and sit upright, looking around for the source of the voice. My eyes land on a woman standing next to Tony. “Ms Potts, it’s a pleasure to meet you!”

She smiles politely. “Call me Pepper. Tony says you’re on a first name basis with everyone else.” Yeah, how _did_ that happen?

I smile graciously, but my smile quickly falls away when I turn back to Loki. “So, um, what happened?” I ask without meeting his eyes.

“Do you remember what he said to you?” he asks carefully.

“I think so?” I pull on my earlobe, thinking. “Last I remember, he wanted me to speak with Frigga.” I speak slowly, trying to pull the memory out of the haze of losing consciousness. “I remember taking a few steps and then . . . that’s it.”

“You aren’t missing any time.”

I sigh in relief. “Well, that’s good. What happened in between me passing out and us getting here?”

“Not much. The queen sent us back using the Tesseract. She says to come back when you’re ready to apprentice,” he states simply, though a bit irritated.

My eyes go wide. “A-apprentice?”

“That’s what I said, yes. I am to instruct you until then.”

Instruct me in what? “Uh, th-thank you.”

“Are you two going to explain?” Tony asks impatiently.

“Loki, to be honest, I’m kind of in shock here. I understand what you’ve said, but not in context.”

He unfolds his arms and sighs. “Describe what happened when you were listing your ‘proof’.”

I shudder a bit as the moment comes to mind, but do as he says. “Well, to start, I was pretty mad.” Another mistake. “I knew Odin doesn’t think much of humans, but how rude he was right off the bat sent me over the edge. I went in barely containing my anger at him anyway, and I think something inside of me snapped.” My emotions caused me to crumble under pressure. “He wanted proof I knew things, and I was going to give him undeniable proof, and it would hurt.” I told myself I was better than that, that I wasn’t like my mother’s family, but I was wrong. “I started going through what I knew chronologically.”

Deal with your family issues on your own time, Paige. Just tell what happened. “The scenes I mentioned played in my mind.” They did, didn’t they? I speak more slowly, “As I started mentioning the childhood vow, it was like I was actually watching it.” I think that’s when it started, but what was it that happened? “The scenes started to replace my senses, and the words just started to tumble out.” I pull my legs back to my chest, hugging them tight to hide my trembling. “I knew what I was saying, but I wasn’t . . . controlling it. I’m not good at remembering exact quotes, but I quoted dialogue verbatim. And my phrasing . . . became strange. I was kind of lost to the scenes flashing before me — some, now that I think about it, weren’t in the movie — and every here and there, words spilled out.” What happened to me?

I peak back up at Loki, eyes too blurry to make out his expression. “I’m not good with time, but when you called me back, it felt simultaneously like I had been gone for both an eternity and just a few seconds.” I take a deep, shaky breath. I think I’ve used up most of tears already, at least.

“How many times did I call out to you?” Loki’s voice is a bit softer than before.

I frown and wipe at my eyes. That’s a strange question. “I only remember you saying my name once. Then the room came back into view, and I began to feel your grip on my arm.” Am I missing something? “Did you say anything else?”

“That was my third attempt.”

“She’s some kind of seer now, too?” I shudder at the word. Odin and Thor called me that, but I don’t know why. I look at Tony. Why is he calling me that? “Is anyone else unnerved by her knowledge?” Tony asks the group, exasperated. He turns to me and sighs. “I’m not upset. I just want to know how much you know about us. It doesn’t seem fair.” Steve and Clint nod.

“If you tell us,” my eyes dart back to Loki as he speaks, “we can help you make things turn out alright.” He uses a soothing tone, trying to ease the answer from me.

My throat feels like it’s swelling closed again. I push the name they called me to the back of my mind once more and focus on keeping my breathing steady. I already caved to emotion once today, nearly costing Loki his freedom. I close my eyes and stubbornly shake my head. I can’t give in again, not when even more is at stake.

“I said you two could stay in my tower. Well, now I have a condition. You tell us what you know,” _I can’t_ , “or Loki stays with SHIELD.”

I look up, startled. He is dead serious. I’m not yet prepared for this. My plans aren’t finished. I glance up at Loki, then back at Tony, the wheels in my head spinning so fast it’s a wonder steam isn’t coming out of my ears.

Shakily, I concede. “Fine.”

He waits a second. “Well, now would be a great time to start, kiddo.” It really isn’t, though.

“I have a condition.”

“What?” He drops his folded arms. “You can’t put a condition on my condition!”

I press on. “We, all of us, go on vacation in Utah. You know, relax, do some team building,” I catch Natasha’s eye, “get away from the world.” She gives a slight nod. I knew I could count on her to understand.

“Why Utah of all places? Why tour Mormon sister-wife compounds when you can sip margaritas in Fiji?” Tony argues.

“Okay, first of all, the LDS church banned plural marriage over a century ago.” Why are you offended, Paige? “I’ll spare you my well-researched lesson on how the modern, developed American West was only made possible by the efforts made by the church.” You’re just cranky from the day’s stress.

“Oh my god, you’re one of them.” Am I?

I roll my eyes. “Yes. Well, yes and no.” I shake my head and push down the pain and confusion; now is not the time. “That’s not why I chose Utah. I thought visiting the parks — there happen to be quite a few gorgeous National Parks in the state and surrounding area — would be fun. There’s so much I still want to see there, and there’s so much to do that would be great with this group.” What I say is true, but it’s not my reason. It will take everything I have to keep dancing around total honesty until it’s safe. But there’s no other option.

“I’ve always wanted to see the Grand Canyon,” Steve muses.

“We’ll do the North Rim; even the drive is amazing.”

Clint stretches dramatically. “I wouldn’t mind a vacation.”

I turn to Bruce; his vote as half of the science bros should convince Tony. “The air is super clear, and the sky is breathtaking,” I tell him. I need to convince Tony. I don’t have a plan b. “Bright blue days, vibrant sunrises and sunsets, and nighttime views astronomers dream of. There’s no better place to meditate and relax.”

“She makes a convincing argument,” Pepper prods. I hope I do.

“My colleagues used to rave about the Utah and Arizona desert,” Bruce informs Tony. Yes! That should do it!

Tony throws his hands in the air. “Okay, I give up! Utah it is. Pepper?” Tony, Pepper, and Bruce begin to make plans while Natasha, Clint, and Steve chat about camping trips. Smiling, I skip over to the window to finally take in the view.

However, all my mind seems to want to do is worry about explanations. I try to shake the thoughts away and focus on the vacation aspect. I step away from the window and begin spinning cheerfully. “Road trip! Road trip!” I sing-song to myself. I had forgotten how much I love to spin. Am I tired-silly right now? “Road trip through U—”

Suddenly I’m very dizzy. I stop and de-rotate, but the room is still spinning. Pressing one hand to my temple, I slowly walk back toward the couch, mentally chastising myself for spinning when I know I have vertigo.

The room grows darker. “Whoah.” I manage about three small steps before deciding sitting is safer. As I lower myself to the ground, a ringing begins to overtake my hearing. This isn’t vertigo. The last sound I can discern is some argument with male voices.

I squint. Is that someone near me? All I can see are dark shadows in a tunnel. “Um, I’m sorry to bother everyone, but my blood sugar is low and I’m crashing.” I think that was audible? Something soft and fleshy is pressed into my hands. I smile and nod my thanks to what is now solid darkness, carefully eating the clementine one segment at a time. I sip from the glass of water my hand is guided to before resting my forehead on my knees and waiting for my senses to come back.

Eventually, I look up, blinking as my eyes readjust to the light. Steve is crouching before me. “Are you better?” he asks.

“Can you help me over to the couch? I just need to sit for a bit. And eat a real meal,” I sigh.

He helps me up and informs me that Loki said as much and pizza has already been ordered. I watch my feet as he guides me, partially for balance, but mostly out of embarrassment.

 

———

 

A tall figure settles down on the floor next to me. I pause the music on the tablet and take my earbuds out. “What’s up?” I ask quietly, without turning away from the window. I do, however, refocus my eyes for a moment to see the reflection in the glass. Just the two of us. I return to staring out the window, taking in the big city night. “You can’t see the stars, but it’s beautiful in its own way, don’t you think?” I murmur.

“You’re unbelievably naive.”

“I won’t deny that.” I give him a minute to elaborate. He doesn’t. I watch a light move in the sky. “Loki, what is this about?” Is that a helicopter? It doesn’t look like a plane.

“What makes you so sure my mind was completely enslaved?” His voice is dark and laced with insinuated threats.

Too bad for him, I’m too tired to be intimidated. “Nothing. I never said I believed such a thing. All I know is that you weren’t one-hundred-percent in control. And that’s all I ever claimed: ‘his mind was not his own’.”

“You manipulated everyone.”

I shrug. “Innocent and not-guilty are two different things.”

“If you aren’t convinced I’m innocent, why do you trust me? I could easily kill you right now, without a second thought.”

Is that supposed to be a threat? “If you haven’t noticed, so could just about everyone I’ve been around lately.” I know I’ve told him I don’t fear death.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

It’s too late for this. I turn to look him in the eye, meeting his icy gaze with cool, no-bull assurance. “I trust your judgement. You don’t do things without reason. I don’t see a real cause for you to kill me yet — though I’m sure you want to after today — but even if you did, I would be at peace knowing that my death served a worthy purpose.” Something in his eyes changes as I speak, and I wish that I was better at reading people. “I fear many things, but not death, and not you.”

Whatever it was is soon gone, his face hardening into cold stone. “You pretend to know everything, but how much do you _really_ know about this world, these people?” I remain silent, mirroring his expression. “Why don’t you tell everyone how much you’ve seen, so they can judge for themselves how useful your help is?”

Because I can’t! _I can’t!_ I want to scream. “You know very well why I can’t do that,” I say quietly. He has to know. Don’t they realize I would’ve told them everything if I could?

His lips turn up in a sneer. “Ah, yes, it would damage your pride. You need to be in control; you need to be important.”

“It’s been a long day. . . . I want to tell you we’ll play this game another time, but we can’t stay like this.” I can’t take any more today. “I knew going in you would probably hate me, likely never forgive me, so just say it already. I exposed your inner demons to your outer ones. I showed them your weaknesses. I played on their pity. You can never go back there. We can never go back. I betrayed your trust. You hate me. You hate me, just say it!” Big, heavy drops stream from my eyes.

“Why?”

“ . . . You’re right; I’m suffering more without the closure.”

“A valid point, but not what I meant.” He tries to catch my eye.

I shake my head weakly. “I don’t understand, Loki. Why what?”

“It hasn’t escaped my notice that you also rarely act without reason.” He doesn’t sound as upset as before. “If you were so sure I would hate you, and knew that it would hurt so much, then why did you do it? Do not misunderstand; I’m furious with you. But I need to know why you risked death to make this happen.”

I clear my vision enough to see his eyes clearly. I’m confronted by a view of conflicted anger and confusion. “I . . . .” I don’t know if he’ll let me speak to him again. I have to tell him now, in case it’s the last I get to say. “When I look at you, I see someone great. I see a good man, who’s been through so much but only fought to be better. Better than the day before. Better than his circumstances. Better than the people around him. Better than the voices inside that tell you to give up, that it’s pointless. In this tower, I saw a man that was still fighting, even after going through hell guided by the devil himself.

“And then you beat him. Before, I just wanted justice. Justice and mercy. But in that moment, I saw a great man, a great man with the potential to be amazing — _more_ , even.

“And in that moment, I knew that I’d do anything to help that happen. If saying things that would make you hate me is what it took to keep you from being locked up and stifled in Asgard, then I would do it without hesitation. I had just hoped that maybe it would also help you process and move on.” I had _hoped_.

Loki looks skeptical. “You didn’t even know me, but in under a day you decided to dedicate your life to me?” he asks suspiciously.

“More or less. I needed something to live for, and you seemed a more than worthy cause.”

He mulls it over for a minute. “ . . . Your answer certainly isn’t what I expected.”

“What did you expect? A declaration of love?” I attempt a small laugh, but it comes out ugly and pained.

He rolls his eyes. “That, or some intense scheme. Mostly, just a pathetic girl pining over the man she played nurse to.”

I almost smile. “Not really my style. Sorry to disappoint you.”

“This is better,” he says quietly.

We both stare out the window for a few minutes, lost in our own thoughts. I turn back to him. “ . . . So, do you think we can be good again?” I don’t think he’ll say yes, but something about the moment, about being next to him, gives me the courage to ask.

“You promised to be honest with me, so I’ll be honest with you.” He runs a hand through his hair and catches my eye in the reflection. “ . . . I think that more than anything, my pride was hurt and I was embarrassed. In Asgard, I was furious with you. And then you collapsed. For whatever reason, you had accidentally unlocked a hidden power within yourself in an effort to get me off simple house arrest.” He shakes his head, breaking eye contact.

“At the end of your trance, you shared a raw and very private moment. I hated you for saying those things aloud, for even knowing them.” He turns his head to look at me, now. “But when you came back, I saw you force down your fear and confusion, replacing it with worry and determination. You barely knew what magic was but had somehow found yourself in front of the Allfather at the end of a vision, not understanding what had happened, but continuing to fight for me.” He looks uncertain, unaccustomed to speaking in this way. But he holds my gaze for the most part, determined to get the words out.

“I didn’t care about that; I didn’t think about it. Until you collapsed and reminded me that you weren’t some villain, but a girl going to enormous lengths for my sake.” He grows quiet again, almost whispering now. “I tried to stay furious, but after that, the anger has been difficult to hold on to. I’m more exhausted than anything now.”

I . . . didn’t expect him to be so raw with me. “You’ll be okay.” I don’t know how to respond, so I just offer what words of comfort I can. “It’ll take time, and the pain will never really go away, but you’ll be okay.”

He turns back to the window. “I’m not sure how I feel about this talking-things-out method of yours.”

“I’m not always sure either, but I know keeping feelings bottled up never ends well.”

“And you’re okay with the possibility that part of what I was before . . . was really me?” His voice is guarded.

I respond firmly, “I am.”

“So are we . . . are we friends?”

I— I don’t know. Is this what friendship is? “I’d say so.” If we can be that open with each other, that comfortable . . . then I suppose we are.

“‘For what, really, are an older sibling’s friends?’” A chill goes down my spine. “You said that during your trance.”

“So I recall. But Thor and I aren’t really friends.”

 

———

 

“Paige. Paige, wake up!” The lights in my room suddenly turn on.

I roll over, groaning, and rub my eyes. “Jarvis? What’s wrong?”

“Loki is experiencing a night terror,” he responds insistently.

I jump up and run to the door. Hand on the knob, I turn back and throw a bra on, then rush out of my room.

I knock on the door opposite mine. “Loki?” I knock again, but receive no answer. I try the handle and find Jarvis has already unlocked the door. By the light of a nightstand lamp, I see Loki curled in a painfully tight ball on the far side of the bed, shivering violently, the blankets all kicked down by his feet.

I close the door and run around the bed. “Loki, wake up. It’s just a dream.” His face is scrunched up in pain. I rest a hand on his shoulder. He is freezing! “Loki, it’s just a dream. You’re safe now. You’re safe here.”

He has stopped shivering so intensely, but shows no signs of waking. I gently shake him. Then more violently. I pry his eyelids open and have Jarvis flicker the ceiling light. I pound on his chest. I try everything I can think of, but nothing will wake him. I wipe at my eyes furiously, refusing to break down when my friend needs me.

I brush the hair out of Loki’s face and rest my hand on his cheek. I need to come up with something, a way to wake him up that won’t bring attention to the room. “Loki, it’s okay. I’m right here,” I say softly. What else is left? What haven’t I tried? “They can’t hurt you anymore.” Loki’s face softens, and he leans into my touch.

Embarrassed, I back away. His face contorts again. No, I can’t—

Why the hell not? You always say it’s only awkward if you make it that way. “Jarvis, any other ideas?” Besides, does awkward really trump necessity? Grow up, Paige.

“Not without waking anyone else.”

I bite my lip. I can’t wake him, but it seems I can at least help some. I pull the blankets up over the freezing man, then crawl in next to him. Finding that more contact equates to a more relaxed and warmer Loki, I fall asleep with my arms around him, my body pressed against his back, lulled by his finally steady breathing.


	10. Nightmares and Daymares

I scowl. What the fudge? Who just flicked me?

I open my eyes to see Loki’s death glare inches away from my face. I freeze, not even daring to breathe. “Why are you in my bed?” he demands icily.

Why _am_ I in his— oh.

I swallow and try to scoot away. Nope, he’s got me trapped. Okay, then. I swallow again and hold his gaze. “Jarvis woke me because you were having a night terror. I couldn’t wake you, but being there seemed to help and also you were freezing cold.”

“I’m a frost giant,” he says through gritted teeth.

“You were shivering uncontrollably. Trust me, this was my last solution.”

He finally pulls away and averts his eyes. “You could have left. My dreams are none of your business.”

I sit up and shake my head. “Even if you weren’t my friend, I wouldn’t have left you alone like that. Dreams and night terrors are vastly different.” I scoot off the bed and head for the door. “I’ll meet you at breakfast. I won’t . . . .” I turn back. “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want them to know.” He nods.

Thankfully, I am in my room by the time it hits me that I was spooning with Loki last night. That I don’t usually move much in my sleep. That he likely woke up with us like that.

I collapse onto the bed and grab a pillow. I curl up and yell into it. And again.

“Jarvis?” I groan.

“Yes?”

“I should not make decisions in the middle of the night.” I yell into the pillow another time for good measure. Rule of threes and whatnot.

“Do you regret your decision?”

I pause to think about that. “No, I don’t.” It would have been unforgivable to leave him alone, and I couldn’t let anyone else know. “It was the best I could do, and I stand by my actions. Thank you, Jarvis.”

“Anytime.” Does he sound pleased with himself?

I uncurl and get dressed, determined to not be embarrassed for helping a friend.

It’s really early, so I only plan on eating a small bowl of cereal. As I enter the kitchen, I notice Clint sitting near the window.

“Good morning!” I call out. I look outside to find the rising sun making the city windows glitter. I move to sit by Clint to enjoy the sight. “Do you always watch the sunrise?” I ask as I approach. He doesn’t respond, just keeps looking out the window. I notice his eyes are closed. Morning meditation?

I sit a polite distance away. As I do, he jumps a bit, eyes shooting open. How did I surprise a spy? Wait a second.

_Are you Deaf_? I ask in American Sign Language.

_You know ASL?_

_A bit. I had 101 in college last year. Wanted 102 this year, but . . ._ , I shrug.

He sits back down, but this time we are facing each other so we can sign. _You can’t tell anyone._ I nod and stick out my pinky finger. He smiles and we pinky promise.

_Does Natasha know?_

He nods. _Why are you awake?_

_Bad D-R-E-A-M._

He looks confused. _Why are you smiling?_

_You are signing slowly. Thank you._ He shakes his head and chuckles quietly. _Why are_ you _awake?_

He frowns. _I can’t sleep. Not with you and Loki here._

I get that he’s been through a lot with Loki, but, _Me?_ I ask

_Just because you sign a little doesn’t mean I suddenly ___ you._

_What does ___ mean?_

_T-R-U-S-T_ , he fingerspells for me. Oh. I nod and fight the urge to avert my gaze. He elaborates. You trust Loki with your all but won’t tell us anything you know except ___ he’s innocent!

____?_

_P-R-O-O-F._

He’s extremely upset. I’m buddy-buddy with a man that kidnapped and mind-controlled him and refuse to be of any help to anyone but said man. Granted, said man was also mind-controlled, but I can’t expect Clint to just get over things. Especially when he doesn’t know that I plan on spilling everything.

_I’m really sorry, but I can’t_ , I respond slowly.

_Why not? We are the best people to know what you know!_ The delay in my comprehension saying can’t be helping Clint’s frustration.

_. . . You are the O-N-L-Y people that can know what I know_ , I respond soberly.

_Then . . . ._ He is starting to understand. But is still upset.

I can’t help myself. He has to know. I can’t stand him looking at me like this, not with all he’s been through. _Do you know what I’m most excited for on this vacation?_

He frowns at the sudden change in conversation, but plays along. _No, what?_ he asks cautiously.

_Small S-L-O-T canyons. They make me feel S-A-F-E_ , I respond. I give a small smile, though my eyes are a little teary. I just hope he understands, because that is the best I can give him, and not just due to my ineptitude with the language.

Clint shakes his head before pulling me into a tight hug. After pulling back, he gives my scalp a light noogie. _Silly little S-P-Y._ He turns serious again. _But why do you trust Loki? He is ___ ___._

_What?_

_The G-O-D of M-I-S-C-H-I-E-F._

I respond slowly, struggling to express my thoughts. _I know some of his past. I’ve seen his C-H-A-R-A-C-T-E-R, like I have with you and the T-E-A-M. He is not bad, just weird on A-S-G-A-R-D. Think silly-but-serious younger weird brother, but with being M-A-G-I-C prince of A-S-G-A-R-D._

_And adopted. He didn’t know, did he?_

I shake my head. _I don’t think you will trust him right away. And I understand. You have no reason to. But please wait before hating him, like you are doing with me._

He mulls it over for a moment before giving a small nod. We then watch the city sunrise, enjoying the silence of the early morning.

After awhile, the gurgling of coffee being made wakes me from my meditation. I gently tap Clint, covertly sign coffee, and turn around to see who else is up.

“I didn’t expect you to be up so early after yesterday, Paige,” Natasha says nonchalantly, facing away. Me neither; I could’ve used more sleep.

Clint gets up and stretches, signing _coffee_ over-enthusiastically. I fail to stifle my giggle, causing Natasha to turn around. Clint smiles as he heads toward the kitchen, pulling two small devices out of his pocket and carefully tucking them into his ears. Natasha raises her brows, surprised and questioning, and swiftly looks me over.

I quickly put my hands up defensively. “No one expected me to be up early.”

She narrows her eyes before sighing and grabbing two mugs. “Did you know beforehand?”

I shift a little uneasily. “I only knew it was a possibility.”

Clint puts a hand on her shoulder. “It’s alright. The kid’s cool; she even signs a bit.”

“Really?”

“I’m awful,” I say, blushing slightly.

Clint laughs. “No exaggeration there. Watching that definitely made up for some things.”

I frown. So _that’s_ why he put up with it. “Yeah, well, thanks for fingerspelling.”

He takes a sip of his coffee. “We’ll work on it.” My eyes go wide. “Don’t look too excited; consider it a public service.” I pout. “Hey, now. I’m just teasing. You aren’t that bad for just having 101 under your belt. It took me time, too.” He leans against the counter. “You don’t drink coffee, right? Isn’t that a mormon thing?”

“I don’t, and it is. Honestly, I don’t even like the smell, and I can’t taste bitter anyway.”

“What do you mean, you ‘can’t taste bitter’?” Pepper asks, walking in.

“It’s a genetic thing. Two main alleles control the ability to taste bitter — well, most bitter compounds. We did a test in high school by tasting papers dipped in something. Some kids gagged on the taste, some could taste it a bit, and I was one of the kids who just tasted paper.” I shrug. “Turns out some things are bitter and I didn’t even know, like broccoli; it’s just sweet to me. So coffee would probably taste like mud unless I added tons of stuff.”

Pepper grabs a mug and fills it. “You know the caffeine is most of the point, right?”

“Yeah, but I’d still rather not.”

“Fair enough.” Pepper brings her coffee over to the table and motions for me to join her. She takes a few sips, perking up, before sliding a notepad and pen across the table. “We’re going shopping today.” Flipping through, I find pages of shopping lists. A list maker, I like her even more. “Look to see if I missed anything and think of stores you’d like to go to.” I nod and find the list labeled ‘Paige’s Wardrobe’, quickly becoming overwhelmed by what looks like a long and busy day doing my least favorite chore.

After a moment of skimming through the list, which thankfully is organized by priority, I speak up. “It, uh . . . .” I clear my throat. “I think you got everything.”

“Overwhelmed? I know it looks like a lot, but we’re going to have fun. You get to create a whole new look for yourself!” I swallow down my trepidation and force a shy smile. Pepper grins back excitedly. “We’d fit in some spa time, too, if you weren’t about to go camping. We’ll just have to make a day of it after you come back.” She winks. I think she needs this.

Natasha speaks up. “I’m in. Could use a good pedicure.” Yeah, she wouldn’t have time for these things either.

I smile wide. “Looks like we have a girls’ day planned!”

“Natasha, will you be joining us today, too?” Pepper asks.

“It would be nice to get out, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course!”

“Pepper?” I ask.

“Yes, dear?”

“Who’s taking Loki shopping?” He’s roughly in the same situation I am.

“I’m assuming we are. I buy much of Tony’s clothes, and I don’t think the other men would want to come along. Don’t worry, we’ll split up for underwear and such.” I’m not worried, but relieved. I’m not sure I feel comfortable leaving Loki alone with other people yet. Natasha must feel the same way, though for different reasons. That’s definitely a reason for her coming. I glance at her questioningly. She shrugs. “So, where are we going?”

I look around. Natasha seems to be waiting for me to answer Pepper’s question, and Clint has left. Is she asking me? “Um, well, I’ve never shopped in New York, but Kohl’s is nice and usually okay for bras. I went to Parisian once in fifth grade; I remember liking it. I do really well at Old Navy.”

“ . . . Old Navy. And Kohl’s for bras?” Pepper looks a little in shock.

I sink in my seat a little. “Old Navy had comfy stuff that fits my curves, and Kohl’s used to have a brand that worked with my narrow shoulders and ribs — though now that it’s discontinued, I guess I have to look somewhere else for bras.” I suppress a shudder and think for a moment on what other stores I like. “Um, I like Bealls, but that’s down South. Ross and Dress Barn are good.”

The two women look at each other and shake their heads. “We’ll keep those in mind if our stores fail,” Natasha say diplomatically.

Pepper looks at me almost pityingly before getting up. “I’ll start breakfast.”

I sit there awkwardly for a moment. “I’ll, uh, see if Loki’s up and tell him about our plan,” I mumble before scurrying off.

I gently rap my fingers on Loki’s door. “Hey, are you up?” I hesitate before continuing, remembering the events earlier in the morning. “Pepper is making—”

I’m interrupted as the door opens a crack. “You know very well I’m awake,” Loki grumbles.

I look down at my feet. “I didn’t know if you had gone back to sleep.”

The door opens a little wider. “What is it?”

“Pepper is making breakfast. No one’s really up, so you might be able to make a request or something, or I could—”

“No.” The door closes abruptly.

“Loki? Loki, wait!” I give him a moment to respond, but he doesn’t. “Pepper and Natasha are taking us clothes shopping today.”

He opens the door slightly. “I’ll go tomorrow.”

“What? Don’t leave me!”

“Don’t leave you? Do you not wish to get new clothes?”

“I, uh, well, don’t you?”

He sighs dramatically. “You’re testing patience I don’t have.”

“Sorry! I just, I-I really don’t like shopping, especially clothes shopping, and if you’re not there, they’ll treat it as girl time, and I don’t do girl time, so please, _please_ , come with us today!”

“Don’t go then.”

You think I didn’t consider that? “They really want to, and it has to get done, and I want them to be happy, and they need to like me,” I explain in a rush. “I _have_ to go. But I don’t want to disappoint them or annoy them or have anxiety problems, and not much gives me anxiety like girl time. _Please_ , Loki! I’ll owe you big time.”

He finally opens the door fully. I look up to see him studying my arm. I didn’t realize I had been scratching it. I bring my hand away, embarrassed, and start to back away. “I’m sorry, this is ridiculous. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“I _will_ collect on this debt.”

I look up in surprise. “So, you’ll do it? You’ll come today?”

“And you’ll owe me a favor.”

I nod. “Of course. Thank you. I know it seems dumb, but this . . . . Thank you.” I spin around and rush into my room. I shakily close the door, turning and just sliding down against it until I reach the floor. I sit there, trying to steady my breathing and not cry.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No. . . . Jarvis, do you think I’m pathetic?”

“You went to Asgard, via Tesseract, to convince their king to change his sentencing on Loki. That does not fit my understanding of pathetic.”

“But I bargained a favor to Loki just so I wouldn’t be clothes shopping alone with Natasha and Pepper.”

He takes a moment to respond. “Your battles being different does not make them lesser,” the AI says sagely.

I take a deep breath. “Thanks, Jarvis.”

I take a few more steadying breaths before standing up and running a brush through my hair. I’ve already gotten the tangles out, but the repetitive motions help.

I can do this. In fact, this is a good thing. I’m excited. No more oversized SHIELD extras. New clothes, ones that will fit. Shoes that actually fit and I won’t trip in (as often); that’s great! And I get to style a whole wardrobe at once, redesign my look. This is exciting, a big first step into my new life. I wonder what Loki’s Midgard wardrobe will look like? What style will I go with? Today is about being ourselves and taking the future into our own hands. Without a budget.

After a few minutes of crafting my false excitement, my hair definitively knot-free, I put on a smile and exit the room.

“And to think that moments ago, you were begging for my help.” I’m confronted by Loki, leaning against his doorframe. He raises a brow. “That smile even seems quite genuine, if a bit nervous.” Which ‘quite’ does he ever mean?

“Yes, well, I’m not very good at lying to others, but I can at least fool myself for a short time. I’m determined to be excited today, so as long as I watch myself, things should go smoothly.” That means no sensitive topics and keeping blood sugar up. Any weakness, and my facade could crack.

“So what do you need me for?” He smirks. “Seems like you can handle this outing just fine, even with the threat of _girl time_ ,” he teases.

My heart picks up its pace, and I shake a finger only half-jokingly. “Don’t say those words like that. It _is_ a threat. I may be able to handle clothes shopping, but _that_ — well, I don’t have enough time to prepare, and even if I did, it would be a mess.” It always is.

“You know, this whole time I was under the impression that you were a female.” Really? _You_ are going to bug me about gender roles?

I shake my head. “You don’t get it. I’m talking about fashion and makeup, weird spa stuff and complicated skin and hair products.” I can’t help but scrunch my face up in disgust. “Worst of all is the gossiping and interrogations about crushes and dating.”

“You don’t enjoy those things?”

“I just don’t get it, any of it. When girls get like that, it’s like I’m from a different planet or something. I have little-to-nothing to work with to even pretend like I understand — or care for that matter.”

“I suppose I understand,” he replies solemnly.

_From a different planet or something_. “Oh, I . . . I didn't mean . . . . Sorry.”

He stands up straight. “Well, shall we head to breakfast? Let us see how long we can pretend to be normal.” A real smile breaks across my face. “Don’t forget you bargained a favor for this,” he adds mischievously.

“It’s more than worth it in my eyes,” I reply, smile unwavering.

_Your battles being different does not make them lesser_. If making an open-ended deal with Loki is what it takes to ensure a good start to our new lives, then I’ll gladly deal with the consequences. Let no one chastise me for not taking risks again, because I haven’t played anything safe since arriving in this dimension.


	11. Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: night terrors

We settle into a booth at a Mexican restaurant; I had insisted on some comfort food after the exhausting morning. I quickly decide upon my go-to meal of enchiladas and focus on helping Loki with the menu. After our orders are placed, I flip through the dessert menu idly, trying to tune out the women’s planning of the afternoon.

I’m pleased with how the morning went. My three companions used their common appreciation of fashion to get along, which eased a lot of my worries. I’m proud of myself, too; I fought my instincts to choose bland, unassuming clothes, instead allowing my new friends to help me build a more sophisticated wardrobe. My new clothes are still fairly conservative, but they are stylish and tasteful, with more pieces that flatter my figure rather than hide it (which is a huge step of me). I would even say that I’ve enjoyed the experience, though I know my choices mean a bit more work will go into my appearance than my old jeans-and-nerd-shirt getup. However, that doesn’t mean the whole experience wasn’t mentally draining. I fully intend to take lunch as a chance to recoup and regroup, preparing for the afternoon.

The others seem to respect my needs and leave me alone for most of the meal. I take my time before paying much mind to the conversation. I eventually decide I’m ready to engage again, but the topic has been exhausted and everyone falls quiet.

Natasha takes a careful sip of her glass before turning toward me and smirking. “There’s a bet going around,” she says, breaking the silence. Pepper coughs and glances over at Natasha in surprise before watching me intently. “And I was wondering, Paige, if you could help us with it.”

I lean back and look them both over. I don’t usually get involved in bets, but if Pepper is involved then it can’t be bad, right? “That depends,” I respond cautiously.

“It’s to bring Tony’s ego down a notch,” Pepper elaborates.

A grin breaks across my face and I can’t help but chuckle a little at her conspiratorial face. “I’m listening.”

Pepper turns to Natasha, but the spy looks content with watching the conversation unfold. The blonde turns back to me. “It’s been noticed that you seem to be a fan of this film, and we were thinking maybe you happen to be a bit of a comic book nerd.”

I shake my head. “No, actually. I’ve always preferred books or tv shows. I’ve only recently started to appreciate comic books.” I smile in reassurance, seeing their faces have fallen some. “I do, however, definitely geek out about superheroes.”

Pepper leans in. “We wanted to know who your favorite superhero is.”

I answer without hesitation. “Storm. Hands down.”

“Storm?” she asks.

I laugh, having caught her off-guard. “Always has been; she’s been an idol of mine since I was little. Being gifted, I always related more to the X-Men than the Avengers.” I shrug.

“Gifted?” Loki asks.

“Yeah. Um, ‘gifted and talented’ is the label for the way some people’s brains work, often associated with academic prowess and high-functioning autism. It’s . . . difficult to explain, because not much is really understood or defined by the psychologist community. But it feels like if you were to stretch the autism spectrum so as to include ‘normal’ people on one end,” I say ‘normal’ while making air quotes with my fingers, “my brain works somewhere in the middle and off to the side of ‘normal’ and high-functioning autism. It’s difficult to say how my brain works differently, though, when I only know how _I_ think.”

Natasha speaks up. “Are the X-Men all gifted superheroes?”

“They are Marvel superheroes, not in this world’s canon, that have powers from being basically the next step in evolution for humans. Their powers are all different, resulting in a few looking significantly . . . atypical. ‘Gifted’ is part of one of their slogans, but it’s more about genetic mutation than psychology.”

“Ah,” Pepper says, nodding her understanding. “Anyway, we were looking for a favorite out of the Avengers; that’s what the bet is about.”

“As in, between Black Widow, Hawkeye, Iron Man, Hulk, Captain America, and Thor?”

“Exactly.”

I answer again without hesitation. “Hawkeye.”

Natasha leans in now. “Really? Most of us figured you to be a Cap fan.”

“Hawkeye, then Black Widow, _then_ Captain America.”

Loki chuckles now. “Stark doesn’t even make the top three.”

I turn to him and shrug. “Yeah, well, they asked.”

“We did.” Pepper calls my attention back to her questions. “You gave us the top; what’s the rest of your ranking?”

I raise my brows in surprise. “Seriously? The Avengers are all pretty awesome.”

“At this point . . . .”

I give a small huff, mostly just to be dramatic. “Fine. After Cap is Hulk, then Iron Man, then Thor.”

“Thor’s last?” Loki exclaims.

I make a point of being serious. “Look, I have my reasons, but I don’t think it’s worth delving into this. Just remember that this is the ranking of which hero personas have meant the most to me. I’m not saying anyone is better or worse, and I’m not saying anything about anyone as people.”

 

———

 

After putting away my purchases, I spend the evening alone in my room, decompressing. Exhausted as I am from the amount of socialization and pushing of my comfort zone, I find myself smiling as I contemplate the day. If today was any indication of how my relationships will be in my new life, then I have a lot to look forward to.

 

———

 

Bright light! I flail around, restrained and confused, before realizing I’m just tangled in blankets. “I’m awake!” I blurt out semi-coherently and look around the room.

“Loki needs you again,” a British voice says out of nowhere. Loki? What? Oh, that’s Jarvis talking. You’re at Stark Tower. What’s wrong with — night terrors!

“Thanks Jarvis!” I hurriedly disentangle myself and rush out of the room, grateful I fell asleep with a bra on.

“Loki, hey, wake up. Loki, wake up! It’s okay.” He startles awake and rapidly retreats, watching me fearfully with his back against the headboard. I slowly take a step back. “Just breathe. You’re safe, Loki. You’re safe. We’re at Stark Tower. You’re safe. Just breathe. You are in a safe place, surrounded by friends.” He takes a sudden deep, shaky breath and blinks a few times. I watch as some of the tension leaves his body.

He looks away. “Are you back?” He nods. I give him a moment to focus on his breathing. “Is it okay if I go grab something? I’ll come right back.” Another nod. I hurry off to my room, then the kitchen.

Upon my return, I carefully climb atop the bed to reach Loki, trying not to spill the glass of water I fetched. He is still pressed against the headboard, knees to his chest. “Here.” He wraps both hands around the glass. “I want you to sip it, slowly.” I then pull my tablet out and resume playing some ocean waves on the already-open white noise app. I situate myself so that our legs touch just a bit, just enough to remind him I’m there while still giving him space, and wait while my friend steadies himself. Slowly, his breathing evens out, and his hands stop shaking as he takes small sips from the glass.

He looks me over. “Why are you still here?”

“You didn’t ask me to leave.”

“ . . . What if I asked you to stay?” he says slowly.

I’ve already thought about this some. Twice already I’ve broken the rules, so I need to decide here and now whether to rewrite them. I was not uncomfortable with sharing Loki’s bed the past two nights, and am still fine about both decisions.

“I don’t know why I’m so comfortable with you,” I sigh, thinking aloud.

“You’ve done more than enough already. But if you do stay . . . .” He looks up and waits until he catches my eye. He looks as confused and desperate as I am. “I promise to be a gentleman.”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath before responding. “I need more than that.” I return his gaze again. “You will behave respectfully as the prince you are.” If there’s anything I’ve learned from the past year, it’s that I must be clear with my boundaries, regardless of whom I’m setting them with. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I’m making it clear now that if you behave inappropriately towards me, regardless of the intention, it will ruin our friendship and I will likely not be able to ever forgive you.”

He nods solemnly. “I appreciate your honesty. You have my word.”

“Good.” I set the tablet on the bedside table and steel myself for disappointment. “Also, just because I _have been_ okay with this, and am okay with it now, _does not mean_ I will necessarily be comfortable with this in the future.” I’m not making that mistake again.

He looks concerned. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“I said I’m comfortable with it. Do you want this: yes or no?”

“Yes.”

“Do you accept that my consent now is for now and not always: yes or no?”

“Yes, of course.” I narrow my eyes in concentration, trying to sense any falsehood. “Paige, are _you_ alright?”

Not finding any deceit, my attitude softens again. I exhale, not realizing I had been holding my breath. “You are a good man,” I say, and crawl under the covers. Abe, this is a man better than you ever were, or will be. I fall asleep smiling, filled with a hope that maybe . . .well, just maybe.


	12. Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: mention of familial emotional abuse; mention of gaslighting; coming out of the closet

“So . . . .” I look up nervously, my heart dropping at Pepper’s playful tone. “Loki’s not bad looking; wouldn’t you say so, Paige?” The day had been going so well. Pepper and Natasha had given me more control of the shopping, and girl talk had been kept to a minimum up to this point.

I clear my throat. “He is aesthetically pleasing, yes. I wouldn’t say anyone on the team is not, though.” I try to bite back my trepidation, not wanting to ruin the great morning I had with the two women.

“You and Loki seem to get along quite well.” Yup, totally ignore my into to _drop the subject_ , yeah, thanks.

“I’d like to thin we’re becoming friends, which is nice. I think we can be good friends.”

Natasha smirks. “Just friends? You don’t happen to have a crush on him?”

I frown. “No.”

“Not even between us girls, huh?” Pepper looks a little crestfallen. “Well, I suppose it’s early yet for you to trust us like that.”

“It’s not that, it’s . . . . Look, I’m just going to save us all a lot of awkwardness and be blunt: I do not have a crush on Loki. I do not get crushes; I am aromantic and asexual.”

Natasha raises a brow. “So you aren’t protective just because of, well, hormones?”

“No! No, I’ve given my reasoning. My judgment is totally and one-hundred-percent unclouded by physical attraction. Mothering instincts: maybe. But when I say I want to be friends with Loki, I literally mean that I desire and value platonic friendship.”

Pepper cocks her head. “So, you don’t ever want to be in a romantic relationship?”

I resist gritting my teeth. It isn’t their fault I hate this conversation. “I didn’t say that, though that’s true for some aros and some aces. I just value and prioritize friendship, and from what I’ve seen from the marriages in my family, those that prioritize friendship work out a lot better than those founded on physical attraction. I simply do not feel physical nor romantic attraction and have yet to be convinced that they are necessary in a healthy relationship. I even dated a guy for a little bit.” So don’t give me that bull about just not knowing yet. “Our relationship failed not because I lacked those feelings, but because he lied about respecting that and lied about us ever being friends.” It’s a service, Paige. You’re educating them. Don’t take any offense where none was given.

“Well, it seems to me that you have your priorities straight.” Natasha leans back, seemingly satisfied with what she’s learned of me.

“Thank you.”

“If you don’t feel the need for those feelings, then good for you. That must make dating easier, even, if you don’t have to worry about that.” Pepper smiles encouragingly, but she doesn’t seem to quite understand. At least she is accepting, though.

I shake my head. “No. Simpler, but not easier. Unfortunately, dating is very attraction-centered. Love and loyalty are choices, so I don’t . . . .” I shrug. “I just don’t get it. Courtship makes sense to me, but the steps to courtship often focus on physical attraction these days.”

Natasha nods. “I can’t argue with that.”

“I apologize for pressing the issue with you,” Pepper says seriously. “I see it makes you uncomfortable. No more talking about crushes and dating?”

I smile. “Yeah, that would be nice. Thank you. And, you didn’t know. I’m not upset with you; it’s just . . . proven to be a sensitive issue and I thought it better to make that clear right off the bat.”

“I’m glad you did.”

I pull on my earlobe. “Um, not that it’s a secret or anything,” I speak softly, “but I would prefer to come out to everyone myself and to do so when I decide to. If anyone presses about the Loki thing, though, would you mind just telling them that you have good reason to believe there’s no crushing going on?” I don’t want to have to do that dance.

Pepper smiles reassuringly. “Not a problem. I support you, Paige.” Natasha nods solemnly.

I smile and quietly dab at my eyes with a napkin. “Thank you,” I whisper.

We spend the rest of the lunch finalizing the itinerary for our trip out West.

 

———

 

I hear a knock on my door. “Come in!” I shout, turning around. “Oh, I figured, you had left already.”

Loki shrugs and walks over to the desk. He points to the chair. “May I?”

“Of course!” I finish hanging the blouse in my hands before hopping on the bed to face him. “So, what’s up?”

He settles onto the desk chair. “Stark decided he wants to accompany us, but is finishing something up in the lab first.”

“Huh. Well, that ought to be interesting.”

He shrugs again. “So, how was ‘girl time’?” he asks teasingly.

“It went surprisingly well, actually. They must have picked up on my lack of girliness.”

“No interrogations, huh?”

I frown. “Not until lunch.”

“What happened during lunch?”

“They bugged me about having a crush on you,” I groan.

He leans forward with a smirk. “What did you tell them?”

I roll my eyes. “The truth: that I don’t get crushes.”

“And how’d they take it?”

“Well. Really well. But I don’t want to talk about it.”

He tilts his head to the side. “Alright,” he says, confused.

Pepper knocks on the doorframe. “Tony’s ready to go now,” she says.

Loki rolls his eyes and gets up. “Good luck,” I call.

“I won’t let Tony be _too_ much of a pester,” Pepper says with a wink.

 

———

 

Pepper gathers everyone in the kitchen to discuss our road trip. “Since I’m not going to be there, Paige, why don’t you present the itinerary?” She slides her notepad and pen over to me.

“Um, sure.” I skim through her notes real quick to see if she’s changed anything since lunch. Nope, still pretty much the same. “Well, to start, we are using the word ‘itinerary’ kind of loosely. There are certain places I would really like to go, but it’s more fun to play it by ear — that’s part of what makes it a road trip. I’d like to take a week for sure, probably a week and a half, but we can stretch it to two weeks if we want to stay somewhere longer.”

Bruce looks over to the agents. “Can you two take the time off for this?”

Natasha nods. “We’ve saved some vacation days.”

“I’d say we’ve earned this,” Clint adds.

“They were given a month off,” Pepper clarifies. “I already called to make sure.”

“Well, I’ve got nowhere to be, and I’ve always wanted to go on a road trip.” Steve smiles.

“Paige has a great trip planned for you all,” Pepper says encouragingly.

“Thank you. There’s a lot to see out there, but I tried to prioritize some major highlights and threw in some of my personal favorite places that are along the way. We’re gonna start in Salt Lake City and work our way south. I’d like to visit Temple Square while we’re in town. There’s also a really nice aviary and these really pretty natural springs I want to share with everyone.

“From there, we’re going to Arches National Park, my favorite of the National Parks in Utah. To get there, you pretty much have to go through this little town called Green River. While in Green River, we can stretch our legs at a local park; it has a cold water geyser.

“We’ll stay in Moab, because it’s decently close to Arches. There’re some really cool petroglyphs right off the side of the road that we can stop and see there, too. We can just rive through Arches, but there’s nice hiking to do, too. After that is Canyonlands, my second-favorite Utah National Park.”

“How many of Utah’s parks have you seen? I thought you were only nineteen,” Tony asks.

“And from Michigan,” Clint adds.

I grin. “My grandparents used to RV, and Utah is their favorite state. When I took an interest in attending BYU out there, my grandparents took me on a two-and-a-half week tour of the region. I’ve gotten to see more of Utah than many Utahans, including all of the National Parks in the state and some state and local parks.”

“Awesome grandparents,” Bruce comments.  
“They sure are,” I muse. “Our trip follows a good deal of what I did with them. So after Canyonlands, we are going west. We can stop by this cool place called Hole ’N The Rock, then we’re going through Navajo land. We _have_ to see Monument Valley!

“And then there’s something I’m super excited for; we’re going on a tour of Antelope Canyon! Pepper scheduled a tour for us, because you need a guide to go into most slot canyons — and to go much anywhere on Navajo land — so this day is set in stone. I didn’t get to go into any slot canyons when I was out there, since my grandparents couldn’t do much hiking. But I’ve heard great things about this place. I’ve researched it, and this is definitely the one to go to if we can only do one.” I catch Natasha and Clint exchanging glances.

Clint notices me watching and smiles. “Sounds perfect,” he tells me.

I smile back, relieved, before continuing. “After that, we are going to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon.” Steve makes a victory fist. I turn to him. “The South Rim is the more famous spot, but the North Rim is prettier in my grandparents’ opinion. I’ve only seen pictures of the South Rim, but I agree. Also, it’s more convenient for this trip.

“Last is the Vegas area, if we want. If we do go out there, I’m sure Steve would like to see the Hoover Dam.” Steve nods enthusiastically. “I’m not sure if they’ll have tours right now, though. We might not get to go inside.

“There’s also a cool little chocolate factory with an awesome cactus garden in the Las Vegas area. I’m not big on Vegas, but it’s worth seeing the strip and Fremont Street. There’s also a bunch of cool outdoorsy things to do out there.”

I set down the notepad. “Well, that’s what I’ve got planned. Does it sounds okay?”

“It sounds like a great trip,” Bruce says enthusiastically. I grin. I think so, too.

Pepper stands up. “Now that everyone knows the plan, I think some packing is in order. We have tomorrow for any last minute needs. We leave the morning after.”

“I thought you couldn’t make it?” I ask Pepper.

She smiles. “I can’t do the road trip, but I do need to stop by some Stark properties in the Salt Lake area.”

 

———

 

Everyone disperses to go pack. I grab my tablet and Pepper’s notepad for the trip before settling down on one end of the couch to do some last minute planning.

Loki sits on the opposite end of the couch, facing me. “We need to talk about you being a seer.”

I sigh and set the tablet and notepad aside. “I know.”

“Does having this power upset you?”

“It’s not that. It’s just . . . a lot has happened. I’m in a different dimension, with superheroes, and now I suddenly have magical abilities?” I wave my hands around. “It’s all so ridiculous! Not to say that any of this has been bad, but it’s just so absurd. I can’t wrap my mind around it when I try to think about it.”

Loki furrows his brows. “Your situation is certainly unusual, but surely there were signs of this ability before you came to this world.”

I shake my head. “I don’t— I mean I’m not—” I take a deep breath to steady myself.

“I don’t mean to upset you this much,” Loki says softly. “I think it’s best to start addressing this before the trip, but we can put it off another day if you need to.”

“No.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “No, we need to discuss this so I can . . . so I can accept it, so my mind can fully see this as real.”

“I’ll walk you through this; you aren’t alone.” I nod. “Do you frequently have difficulty discerning reality?”

Straight to the hard stuff, huh? “Kind of. I don’t like to talk about it, and I usually try to keep from thinking about it, but I live so much inside my head that sometimes I muddle what I thought about an event or even what I dreamt with things that actually happened. I’m trying to stop my old habits and live more actively in the world than in my head. I just feel so out of place that I retreat into myself reflexively.”

“Out of place, huh? That doesn’t mean anything on its own — I mean to say, not about latent magical ability.”

I put a hand up. “I know what you meant. We’re investigating my past for magic, not having a therapy session.”

He nods and thinks for a moment. “What about your dreams? The ones you mistake for reality?”

“I have very realistic dreams sometimes; as fas I know, that’s not unusual. But sometimes . . . .”

“Sometimes?”

“Those realistic dreams can be just casual, insignificant conversations or chores, little routine things. I don’t always remember them when I wake up.” I shrug.

“But?” Loki presses.

“You know the feeling of deja vu?” He nods. “Well, there are moments where I’ll get that except . . . .” I take a deep breath and let it all rush out. “Except, it isn’t like I’ve lived that moment before; on occasion, I get a sudden feeling or a flashback to a dream of that moment from the night before. I’d just dismiss it, but there are days when I do wake up and remember the details of a mundane dream, and then it will happen that day. It’s not the routine things that set off the feeling, either. It’s the setting and specific phrasing in conversation. I’ll suddenly remember picturing that exact moment before. But deja vu is supposed to just be a feeling of familiarity, right?”

Loki frowns. “You said you’ve never experienced any signs of being a seer, yet you just admitted to me that you have a history of getting premonitions.”

I shrink in on myself, realizing I’ve just told Loki something I haven’t told anyone else, not even a therapist. Because it does sound like I think I get premonitions. It sounds crazy. I sound crazy.

I wasn’t lying, though. “I’ve tried to never think about them like that. I rationalize and dismiss them, call them daydreams or just symptoms of my poor mental health.” I avoid his gaze. “It’s easier to pretend they don’t happen when it’s a radical thing. Also, sometimes I get a feeling that I would maybe call a premonition, but what I expect to happen doesn’t.” I pull at my earlobes. “It’s better for my sanity to dismiss these things as symptoms of my anxiety and an overactive imagination.”

“Do you dismiss what happened on Asgard that way?”

“I . . . I can’t.” I sigh. “But I’ll admit that I’ve mentally distanced myself from it some,” I add quietly.

“Paige, look at me.” He waits for me to drag my gaze back to meet his. I’m surprised to find myself staring at a look of concern, not anger. “I’m here, now, telling you that your trance on Asgard was real, and it was you.”

“It can’t be me, though!” I exclaim.

“Why not?”

“Because— because I’m nothing!” I sink back, ashamed of giving voice to my self-doubt, but no longer able to hold it back. “I’m small, and pathetic, and weak, and useless, and boring. I’m not — well, I’m just _not_.”

“Who told you those things?”

“Nobody had to tell me that, Loki. It’s not hard to see.” When I’m visible, that is.

“Who told you those things?”

“I did! I did. I . . . belittle myself and distance my mind from my life so I don’t feel how I’m accomplishing nothing. I’m afraid to be assertive. I do nothing and keep myself from seeing my failure. That I’m a failure.”

“A failure to whom?”

I take some time to regain enough composure to continue speaking. As I do so, I manage to push some of the emotion away and clarify my mind again. “A month ago, I might have said ‘to myself’.” But that’s not true. I’ve come far and grown much. I’m proud of the things I’ve accomplished.”

“Then how can you be a failure?”

“Because that’s not good enough. I’m not good enough.” I bite my tongue.

“Paige, who told you those things?”

“My family, okay? My family did. My mother did. I can’t be good enough for her; my accomplishments as an adult mean nothing because I’m not the person she wants me to be; I wasn’t the child she wanted. No matter what I do in my life, it will never be good enough for her, because I’m not what she wants. I will always be measured against my sister’s perfect reflection of what my mother wanted me to be.”

“Paige, look at me.” I slowly bring my eyes back to meet his. “Your mother isn’t here now. You can be who you want, and you can’t disappoint her because she will never know. Do you know what kind of woman you’ve proven to be in the past week? If your mother wouldn’t be proud of you for that, then I’m glad she isn’t here to say it. Don’t let someone else limit your potential.” I nod. “Was your mother the reason you thought you were crazy?”

“A great deal of it, yes.”

“You are a seer, a being of truth, but couldn’t see the truth in yourself because of the lies someone imposed upon you. Promise me you won’t let that happen again. You are free now. Promise me you will stay that way.”

“Only if you promise me the same of yourself.”

He sighs. “I think I finally understand why you were a fan of my character in that film of yours.”


	13. Galaxy Jesus

Can I just say that private jets are awesome? Because they are.

Normally, I would just watch the clouds and uncomfortably doze in and out. This time, though, I have friends to talk to and a ride smooth enough that I can draw. I’m short enough that legroom is never an issue on planes, but having a full personal bubble is great! Also, the private jet itself is super cool and comes with an expedited airport experience.

I spend most of the flight coloring in my new mandalas coloring book. Once we get closer, my face is glued to the window.

“I thought you said you’ve flown in and out of Salt Lake multiple times?” Pepper asks.

“Watching the mountains appear and turning into the valley is my favorite part of flying here.”

Once we have landed, Pepper asks me what today’s plan is.

“Well, it’s too late to go to the aviary,” I think out loud.

“It’s only open in the morning?” Tony asks, shocked.

“No, but birds take siesta, and it closes before evening, so the birds won’t really be active.”

“So, the springs?”

“I was thinking we could do that tomorrow, after the birds. Is it okay if we do Temple Square today?”

“This is your show,” Natasha reminds me.

We break up into two cars; I ride with Natasha, Steve, and Loki. I try to cover a laugh as Natasha mutters about idiots for probably the twentieth time from the driver’s seat. “You want to drive, Paige?” Aw crap, she caught me! “Because passengers don’t get an opinion.” She swerves into a new lane to avoid getting hit.

“I wasn’t judging! I just know what the drivers here are like. I’ll take over if you want, but our chances are better with you behind the wheel.”

“Chances?” Steve asks nervously. He hasn’t let go of the grab handle since we entered the freeway.

“Look at the sign coming up,” I respond, pointing to an upcoming traffic deaths listing.

“Is that a warning or are they proud of that number?” Loki turns to me.

I shrug. “Have yet to figure that one out myself.”

 

———

 

I lead everyone through the wrought iron gate. “Here we are, Temple Square.” I had given everyone a crash course in LDS religion and history the day before.

“Let’s start with the visitors’ center about the temple,” Pepper suggests. “The part about how it was built is interesting.” We all turn to look at Pepper. She shrugs. “I’ve done business here enough to see the sights.”

We split up once in the building, everyone wandering towards whatever catches their eye. I make my way to the center area and look out the window at the towering white structure this building is dedicated to explaining.

“Hey.” I jolt at the sound. I must have zoned out; I didn’t notice Steve come up beside me. “Everyone’s about ready to move one.” I nod. “Are you okay?” he asks softly. “You looked pretty somber.”

I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. “Yeah, I’m fine. Was just thinking.”

“About?” he presses worriedly.

I sigh. “I was thinking about how I’ll never be able to go in there.” And if I even want to, anymore.

“I’m sure you could do something to join the church again.”

“Perhaps. But I wasn’t allowed in much of the temple to begin with.” I had let my temple recommend (the pass to enter a mormon temple) lapse before I ended up here. I shake my head again. “I’m ready to go. Temples are a sore subject, anyway.” Steve frowns, but says no more as I lead everyone out and to the tabernacle.

After we watch the pin drop demonstration — and wait patiently while Tony interrogates the poor missionaries only to find they know very little about the mathematics behind the acoustics — we move back toward the main square.

“So, what’s in the other visitors’ center?” Clint asks me.

“It’s about the church in general, what mormons believe and all that.”

“So we can skip that one?”

I rub the back of my neck. “I just want to pop in and see something real quick. There’s a Christ statue in a room with a cool mural. I just want to sit in there for a minute, if that’s alright.”

“Go ahead,” Pepper says, smiling encouragingly.

“Is it alright if I come along?” Steve asks.

“I would like to see this mural,” Loki adds.

I nod. “Yeah, you can do whatever you want.”

The three of us head inside the visitors’ center. “Most of this building is little exhibits on the life of Christ, but upstairs,” I point to a winding ramp toward the center of the area, “is a replica of a famous _Christus_ statue. The walls and ceiling have a mural of space and the heavens, so I call this copy of the statue _Galaxy Jesus_ , but most people think that’s irreverent. It’s my favorite part of Temple Square.”

I lead them slowly up the ramp, letting them take in the mural as it emerges around us. Once at the top, we find only a couple of people in the room, sitting on the benches opposite the statue of Christ. I sit on one of the benches in the back and take in the room, contemplating creation, space, and the universe. Steve and Loki sit on either side of me after a minute, but they let me contemplate in peace.

A little voice in the back of my head tells me that this is my goodbye, the farewell I never properly got. I push the voice back, not willing to think of my recent experiences with the church right now.

“‘Worlds without number’,” I muse. “I had anticipated different meanings to that scripture, but not this,” I add quietly.

Steve cocks his head. “I don’t recall that one.”

“It’s not in the Bible; it’s in one of the LDS books. That’s one of the reasons we tend to be more open to the idea of extraterrestrials. Stories being real, though, that wasn’t anticipated.”

“That’s because it’s a hoax, dear.” A man on the bench in front of us turns around. “Sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. New York’s got a lot of people on edge.”

“But you think the attack is a conspiracy?” Steve asks, failing to hide his bemusement.

“Nah, we were definitely attacked by aliens. But that Norse god story the government fed us? Ridiculous.”

Loki coughs. “So you only believe in some of the aliens.”

“What I’m saying is that Loki nonsense is meant to distract us from the fact our planet is a target now. And Captain America coming back from the dead?” He shakes his head and turns back to me. “They want us to focus on heroes so we don’t worry about armies. The Second Coming is nigh at hand, kid, and the only hero we have is that one over there.” He nods toward the statue of the Savior.

I look over to Steve; he is frowning. “I believe the world has always had heroes; the scriptures are filled with them. But I agree that we need faith in these hard times.” I move to stand. “God be with you, sir,” I say dismissively.

As I get up, my vision blurs. I reach out for my friends. I can feel them guide me back down, but I can no longer hear anything in the room.

Images begin to flash before my eyes, and suddenly I’m in the maternity ward of a hospital. “Early. Unexpected. A frightened woman worries if she’ll get to be a mother. ‘It’s not right,’ the scrubs say. Breach. Cord wrapped. Anxious father, phone in hand. First child, fifth try. ‘Why won’t he pick up?’ An infant screams. 6 pounds, 4 ounces. ‘I guess Louisa won’t do’.”

My vision comes back slowly, just a tunnel at first. I’m facing the older man. He stares at me, face drained of all color. Gradually, I see Loki’s face next to the man.

“Paige, are you alright?” he asks slowly.

“Are you back with us?” Steve asks.

I nod, still looking at the stranger. “Call your son. Tell him the baby will be okay. And to thin koi boy names.” I turn to Loki. “It’s time to go.” He nods and stands up from where he had been kneeling in front of me. The three of us hastily exit the building.

The rapid change in light shocks my vision. I stumble and throw a hand up to shield my eyes from the bright Utah sun. I blink for a moment before letting a strong arm guide me further into the square. We approach Tony and Pepper, leaning against a raised flowerbed.

Pepper looks up. “What’s wrong?” She rushes forward, face filled with worry.

I am guided to sit on the edge of the flower bed. Steve answers, low so only our small group can hear, “She had a vision.”

Tony turns to me. I put up a hand. “I don’t know why. Some guy was telling us about a conspiracy theory, and when I made to leave, I saw the birth of his grandson. I told him to call his son, and we booked it.”

A minute later, Bruce is crouching in front of me. “Are you okay? Any side effects?” Natasha and Clint quietly question Steve.

I answer Bruce. “I think I’m alright for the moment.” I carefully stand up and take a shaky step. “We should go.” Everyone quietly agrees. I fight some vertigo and slowly move toward the exit of the fenced-in square.

“Careful, now.” Loki holds his arm out. “Dizzy?”

“Yeah,” I mumble. I take hold of his arm, leaning on him for support as we quickly leave Temple Square.


	14. The Birds!

“Where are we going, again?” Bruce asks as we all get out of the cars.

“An aviary!” I respond excitedly.

“Then why are we at a park?” Tony asks.

“It’s in the park,” I respond simply and point across the parking lot.

“Why are we going to some dinky little aviary?” Tony bugs me.

“To check in on my bird friends, of course.”

“Bird friends?” Pepper says.

“Wouldn’t these be different birds?” Natasha points out.

“I make bird friends wherever I go. I don’t know if they will be the same birds; that’s part of why we’re here.” I start walking toward the entrance to Tracy’s Aviary.

“And the other part?”

I stop and turn to Clint. “Because birds!” I respond, waving my hands enthusiastically. I turn back down the path. “Also, I need a new Picasso original.”

“I thought we’re going to an aviary, but now you’re talking art!” Tony exclaims.

“They sell paintings made by the birds. The macaws are all named after famous painters.”

“Oh. Why do you need a Picasso painting?”

“Because it’s funny. And also, because birds!”

“You really like birds,” Loki says amusedly.

“Yup.”

We make our way into the gift shop to buy our tickets. “Twelve dollars a person, huh?” Steve remarks, looking at the sign.

“Not a bad price,” Tony says and counts out a number of twenty-dollar bills. He hands the cashier close to two hundred dollars and continues toward the entrance into the aviary.

I follow him through the gift shop and out the door. “If you were feeling cheap today, at least one of us is a senior,” I tell him with a grin as we wait for everyone to follow.

“My military status gives me the same price; no need to pull the old card.” Steve rolls his eyes but smiles.

“Yeah, but do you have a military ID?” Bruce asks him.

“Who’s the other senior?” Pepper asks me.

“Well, technically Loki is like my age, but he is over sixty-five.”

“Wait, he’s your age?” Tony exclaims. Clint coughs.

Loki turns to me. “How do you figure?”

“Well, assuming your natural life span is equivalent to that of an aesir and that the aesir life-cycle is comparable to that of a human, we are, relatively speaking, about the same age.”

“So much makes sense now,” Tony says, grinning.

“Shut up,” Loki warns him, but with an eye roll.

“So, how old is Thor?” Natasha asks.

I shrug. “His age wasn’t given, so I don’t know.”

We all turn to look at Loki. “We are very close in age,” he says vaguely.

 

———

 

“Hello!” I call cheerily to the macaws as we approach. I skip over to the sign and look over who’s who of the macaws. I frown.

“What is it?” Natasha asks.

“They have the same names, but not with the same types of macaws; Picasso was a blue-and-gold.” I shrug. “Now we know.”

I turn back to the birds. “Hello!” I call out again. One of the great greens tilts its head. “Good morning. How are you today?” I ask it. I examine the markings. This one is . . . Rembrandt.

“Do they talk?” Loki asks me.

“They should have a decent vocabulary. Hookbills and corvids like being talked to and played with.” I turn back to Rembrandt. “Do you dance?” I ask him. I bob my head up and down.

“Hello!” he calls and bobs in response.

I shuffle side-to-side a little. “Wanna dance?” I ask. He calls ‘hello’ again.

Another macaw comes over, one of the green-wingeds. “Hello!” I greet it. “Hello, pretty bird! Hello, Picasso!” She bobs her head. I lift my shoulders and elbows up, bringing my head down in an exaggerated bob.

“What are you doing?” Tony asks, laughing.

“Playing with them,” I state simply. I repeat the motion, asking Picasso, “Wanna dance?” She bobs a few times and shuffles along the branch to the right, and then back.

“You got it to dance!”

“She’s a bird whisperer!”  
Picasso and I take turns shuffling from side to side.

“Hello!” Rembrandt calls out. He hops off the perch and onto the side of the enclosure. He bobs his head at me wildly, calling “Hello!”

I turn to Rembrandt. “I didn’t forget about you, pretty baby! Hello!”

A third macaw whistles at us from above. Clint whistles back. The other great great, Rousseau, squawks and cocks her head so she can look at him with one eye.

“Did I upset it?” Clint asks me.

“No, you got her attention. Bob your head and whistle again.” Clint obeys. The bird hops onto the cage, climbing over until she’s about a foot above Clint’s head. She squawks at him, and Clint jumps back a little.

Tony chuckles. “You pissed it off!”

“That was a good squawk,” I reassure Clint. I turn to the new bird. “Hello, pretty bird. How are you today?” I bob my head. She cocks her head. I mirror her. She tilts her head to the other side, and I follow suit.

She bobs her head and whistles.

I bob my head. “Hello!” I call, then whistle back.

Clint whistles back, too. Rousseau mimics Clint’s whistle, and soon they are playing copycat.

We play with the macaws until some kids run over and the birds retreat further into their enclosure.

“How did you do that?” Steve asks as we move on to another exhibit.

I shrug. “I like birds, always have. Between owning a few and watching and feeding wild ones, I’ve managed to pick up on a lot of their body language.”

“Can you talk to all birds?” Bruce asks me.

“I don’t really speak their language; I just communicate with them better than most people do. And no. Hookbills have different behavioral patterns than corvids, and corvids prefer different stimuli than waterfowl. Not to mention that birds all have individual personalities.”

We come up to the keas. They are reasonably active at the moment.

“What kind of parrot are these?” Clint asks.

“They’re from New Zealand,” I reply and point to the sign. I turn to one that is watching us. “Hello!” I greet it.

It bobs its head before running over to an overhanging branch. It hooks the inner curve of its beak around the branch, not biting it, and slowly lifts its legs. “Wow!” I golf clap. I would clap normally, but that would be more startling than encouraging.

“Wow? I don’t get it,” Tony remarks.

The kea lowers itself and bobs its head at us, then hooks its beak over the branch and performs its balancing act again. “Wow! Nice trick!” I golf clap enthusiastically.

“Is it showing off?” Natasha asks.

“Yes, it is,” I respond as the bird lowers itself again. “Be excited!”

Natasha and Clint start telling it ‘good bird’ and ‘nice trick’.

The bird performs its trick repeatedly over the next minute, getting more excited the more we clap and cheer it on.

A little girl skips over. “What’s going on?” she asks us.

I point to the bird. “This kea is doing a trick for us. It’s very proud of it.” The kea performs its balancing act again. “Good job! Nice trick!” I golf clap. The girls joins in. “Keep clapping for it and it might keep performing for you,” I tell her. She nods happily and we move on.

“Good job! Smart birds!” I hear the girl call as we walk away.

“Okay, so macaws and keas really like you.”

“Macaws and keas are hookbills. Parrots and most common pet birds are all called hookbills because of their beak shape. These birds like to talk with you and to play. Sometimes they just want to be talked to. They like attention and interaction.”

“You mentioned corvids earlier, too,” Bruce says.

“Corvids include crows, ravens, jays, and magpies. They also have highly developed mimicry capabilities and are extremely intelligent and curious. They won’t usually play with you directly though — they like toys better — but they also like attention and to be talked to.”

“Can you play with any other birds?” Pepper asks.

“Like, in general, or me personally?”

“You personally.”

“You seem more capable than ‘in general’,” Bruce comments.

I blush. “Like I said, I just understand how birds communicate better than most. You can always get more interesting interactions after building rapport with an individual bird. But, um,” I think to other birds I interact well with, “I’m also pretty good with ducks.”

“Define ‘pretty good’.”

“There was a duck back at the pond at BYU that would sit in my lap and dig in my backpack, looking for treats. He didn’t like being pet, but didn’t mind if I accidentally bumped him.”

“He sat in your lap?”

“Yup. But I went to the duck pond all the time. I’m pretty sure the regulars recognized me after awhile.”

Clint shakes his head. “Okay, so you’re good with hookbills, corvids, and ducks. Any others?”  
“I do well with swans, ibises, geese, and storks, too; when I visit my grandparents in Florida, we go to a lake that has all of those birds. I figured out that the storks are pretty friendly if you bring them sardines. Flamingoes can be pretty fun, too, if they are more adjusted to direct human interaction.”

“Flamingoes?” Natasha says, surprised.

“Yeah. They can be cuddly and playful. I played with on in Busch Gardens in Florida.”

“Okay, are there any birds that you’re _bad_ with?” Bruce asks me.

“Songbirds tend to be too skittish for anyone to interact much with. My experience with chickens and turkeys is very limited, so I haven’t picked up on much of their behavioral differences. I don’t really have any experience interacting with birds that aren’t songbirds, pigeons, corvids, hookbills, or common duckpond goers.”

“But there aren’t any birds that you just don’t click with?”

“Not any that I have enough experience to really say that about, no. The birds I haven’t ‘clicked with’ have all been against interacting with people in general. I even tend to get along pretty well with people’s pet birds that are more antisocial.” I shrug. “I’m just a bird person, like some people are cat people or dog people.”

“Cat and dog people don’t necessarily get along with wild cats or wolves, though,” Pepper points out.

“That’s because domestic animals are different than wild animals. Different breeds and species have different cultures and communication methods; certain behaviors even have opposing meanings to different species. You just have to behave with the animals on their own terms and hope they accept you.”

“No, you just need to be magical. She’s using magic, isn’t she?” Tony asks Loki, exasperated.

“As far as I can tell, Paige is just really good with birds because she understands their communication patterns. She isn’t using magic.”

“I’m calling bull. You can’t be that good with animals just by understanding their behavior. She hasn’t even properly studied their behavior!” The Dog Whisperer guy does it, and he was good even before formal study.

I turn to Tony. “You know how you can start picking a language up just by being around it, without learning it in school? It’s not all that ridiculous.”

Loki backs me up. “Paige is right. You just have to work with the way the animal processes and interacts with the world around it.”

“You have to work on their level, with their tools and methods,” I continue. “Some animals will even meet you halfway, especially domesticated species.”

“You two are insane,” Tony says, shaking his head.

Natasha pipes up. “They aren’t insane, just more empathetic. Understanding how someone’s mind works is extremely helpful in interacting with them; that’s a skill we learn as spies.”

“That’s what psychologists do,” Pepper adds. “That’s something parents of autistic children and children with special needs learn to do.”

“Really, it’s something parents tend to learn regardless of what their child is like, because children think differently than adults,” I comment.

Bruce speaks again. “So, you’re good with animals because you can understand minds working in different patterns.”

“I guess that’s how you’d put it.”

“Is it because you’re gifted?” Natasha asks.

“You’re gifted? Like gifted and talented?” Tony looks interested again.

“It could be that.” I shrug. “It might be because my dad is high-functioning autistic and my mom suffers from manic depression, so I grew up having to adapt to very different patterns of behavior and thinking. I think the gifted part has really helped me understand my dad and autistic children I’ve babysat, though.”

“What about other kids?” Clint asks.

“I do really well with little kids, and kids in general up to about age eight if they aren’t too energetic. It’s not like I understand everyone, though.”

“Are you good with languages?” Bruce asks. “Human languages, I mean.”

I rub the back of my neck. “Reasonably. Guys, I’m not a savant or anything.”

“You’re just flexible in your patterns of thought,” Loki comments.

“Maybe? Just because I acknowledge that minds work differently doesn’t mean I understand how all minds work.” I skip ahead to the next exhibit. “Oh, you _have_ to see the hornbills.”

Everyone takes the hint and goes back to enjoying the aviary (to various degrees). We decide to break up into small groups, agreeing to meet back at the gift shop at a specified time.

Loki sticks with me. So does Clint, because “We are now bird bros.” I smile and lead us around.

Eventually, I lead Loki and Clint into the rainforest building. The main room consists of a winding path through a simulated tropical forest. Most of the birds can fly around the room freely. We carry a laminated paper identifying the different bird species that can be found in the room. No one else is in the building, so we go up and down the path several times, trying to find all of the birds. Clint spots most of them first.

I point to a white blur coming down from the rafters. “There it is! That’s the last one on the list, a,” I look down at the card, “an oriental magpie robin, male.” It lands in the tree above us. “So lovely,” I whisper.

Loki looks around the room carefully. “Um, right here?” Clint tells him, pointing to the bird, which has hopped down to about eye level.

“I know,” he mutters. He scans the room once more before turning to me with a smirk. “Just making sure we’re alone.” I tilt my head in question, but instead of elaborating, Loki turns toward the bird we found.

“Creep,” Clint mutters.

Loki shushes him, then puts a hand out. He whistles to the bird. It cocks its head then hops a little closer. Loki whistles again, and the bird flies over and lands on his hand. Clint and I go still, hardly daring to breathe as we watch Loki and the bird whistle back and forth.

“Paige, put your hand out,” Loki says without turning from the bird. I slowly reach a hand up, finger out for a perch. Loki whistles to it once more, and the bird flits over to my hand.

I whistle at it. It cocks its head to the side again, then puffs up and lowers its head. I start to reach my other hand up reflexively, thinking of my cockatiels, but I stop myself. The bird taps my finger with its beak, then lowers its head back down. I slowly reach up and gently run a finger over the top of its head. The bird tilts its so its ear is under my finger.

“Are you . . . petting it?” Clint whispers.

“It asked me to?” I whisper back, rubbing the bird’s ears.

“Loki, what did you do?” Clint asks.

“I let him know that she is nice and good with birds.”

“Can . . . can I hold him?”

“That’s really up to him.” Loki shrugs, then whistles to the bird. The bird looks up from getting pet and examines Clint with one eye. Clint puts a finger out, and the bird flies over to him. Before he can pet him, though, we hear someone enter the room, and the bird flits away.

Clint turns to Loki. “Was _that_ magic?” he whispers.

Loki smirks. “A bit. Just enough to communicate more specifically.” 

“Add that to the lesson plan,” I say, eyes wide. We leave the exhibit to meet back up with everyone.

At the gift shop, I pick out a new painting. It’s another Picasso.

 

———

 

“Welcome to Cascade Springs.” I lead everyone around a bend and gesture out toward the springs. Clear water gently cascades down a hill, forming several pools at different elevations, all connected by miniature waterfalls.

“This is beautiful,” Pepper says.

Clint turns to me. “Paige, how did you find out about this place?”

“Oh, um,” I rub the back of my neck, “my ex-boyfriend was from the area. He and his family brought me here.”

“You didn’t— I mean, when you came here . . . . You two weren’t together when you ended up here, were you?” Tony asks. Steve looks sad.

“Oh! No. No, I broke up with him months ago. It didn’t last very long.”

“Oh. Good. Well, not good. Good you weren’t with someone when—”

“Tony, it’s okay. Really.”

“I knew you lost your family, but it never occurred to me that . . . ,” Clint trails off.

“What?” I furrow my brows. “That I could’ve been in a relationship?” So, what?

“Well, you’re mormon, and went to a mormon university, and it just clicked that you could have been engaged,” he finishes sheepishly.

“Or married,” Bruce mumbles.

My cheeks get really warm. “Oh, guys, no! Just because I am LDS, or was, I suppose, doesn’t mean— I’m not like that, okay? I didn’t really date and it’s just . . . .” I shake my head and sigh.

“Was?” Tony asks.

“It’s, um . . . . Not here, okay? Let’s just enjoy the scenery. I don’t want to talk about it around,” I look around and notice a few people eavesdropping, “you know.” Mormons. I don’t want to talk about it around any Utah mormons.

Pepper walks up to me. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t owe us any explanations. Let’s go.” I nod, and the two of us quietly lead the group down the path.


	15. Surprise

We all hang out in the hotel lobby after dinner to go over the plans for the next day.

“So, Paige,” Tony speaks up. “Can you talk about it now?”

“It?” Bruce asks confusedly.

“Why she _was_ a mormon,” Tony explains.

“Leave her alone, Tony,” Pepper warns sternly.

I hold up a hand. “No, it’s okay.”

“You don’t have to talk about it; it’s none of our business,” Natasha tells me.

“I know, but I don’t mind. I just didn’t want to talk about it around,” I look around again to double-check we are still alone, “a bunch of mormons, especially Utah mormons.” I don’t need anyone butting in and giving me their opinion as if they know my situation. I take a deep breath. “Remember when I said that I attended BYU?”

“Brigham Young University?” Bruce asks for clarification. I nod. “Yeah, you mentioned it when you first got here.”

A shiver runs down my spine at the memory. I don’t want to dwell on that day. “Well, it was a bit of a slip. I mean, I shouldn’t have said anything to begin with, but by the time I got here, I . . . was no longer a student there. I dropped out.” I thought about this while we were walking around the springs, about how much I wanted to tell. “I wasn’t trying to lie; it just kind of . . . . I hadn’t fully switched over to past tense yet in my mind. Dropping out was never in my plan, you know?” I shrug sheepishly.

“You’re a college dropout?” Tony asks.

“Yeah. Well, kind of? I was planning on attending community college for awhile and then transferring to a new university. I went home this spring. I just couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t . . . .”

Steve squeezes my shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay.”

I nod and take a deep breath. Everyone here has been through so much worse. I don’t need to draw this out; they don’t need to know. “Well, in short, my time at BYU killed my faith. Or it died while I was there. It was . . . the culture is difficult to explain, but I went out there strong in the church and came back unsure that organization was a healthy place for me to be. I may go back one day, or I may not.”

“If you ever need to talk about it . . . .” Pepper’s voice trails off.

I shake my head. “It’s not worth going into. The past few years have been rough, but that Paige is dead — she died before I even got here. The past is the past; I’m concerned about the future. I’m in a new world with a fresh start, and I get to choose I get to be. I’m aromantic and asexual, and that’s okay. I’m not a mormon, and that’s okay, too. More importantly, I get to choose so many more things that I am and am not. My life is finally my own, and I intend to make the best of it.”

“I’m sorry I pestered you,” Tony says quietly.

I smile to him. “Don’t be. I’m the one that brought it up. Now you know.”

Pepper plans on leaving for business early in the morning, so I hug her goodbye before heading to the hotel room Natasha and I are sharing. I don’t get much sleep that night. The new nightmares have been mostly bearable, but this night, my old fears about my time away at school rear their heads again.

 

———

 

I wipe the sleep from my eyes and look out the car window. We are in a wide valley, far out into the desert.

“We’ll be in Green River in about fifteen minutes,” Natasha says from the driver’s seat.

I stretch. “How are you liking the desert, Steve?”

“It’s certainly different,” Steve replies. He turns around in his seat to face me. “It’ll be nice to get out and stretch my legs; I don’t know how you did this drive before.”

I smile. “I pretty much grew up in the car. Plus, I’m travel-size.” I’m not significantly short, just enough for it to be a nuisance sometimes (and to be the shortest in my family).

Steve rolls his eyes. “Well, not all of us have that luxury.” Having legroom is one of the few perks to my height.

“Don’t hate on me for not taking drugs to get big,” I say teasingly. “Didn’t they teach you ‘just say no’ in the forties?”

Natasha snorts. “She’s got you there.”

Steve pouts and turns to Loki. “Help me out here? The small ones are picking on me.”

“I’m just enjoying being one of the bigger people.”

“Says the literal giant,” I mumble.

“Someone is sassy when she first wakes up, huh?” Loki says, brow raised but shooting a teasing smile.

Natasha prevents my retort. “Paige, where are we going in Green River?”

“There should be a Mexican restaurant. We can eat there and ask for directions to the geyser.”

The waiter gives us a strange look when I ask about the geyser after we pay for our meal.

I frown. “Is something wrong?” To be fair, we have been getting a lot of curious looks.

“No, it’s just not something tourists ask about. I’m surprised you know about it.” He shrugs and explains how to get there.

“The way there sounds sketchy,” Tony comments after we exit the restaurant.

“Yeah.” I nod. It is a sketchy drive down unmarked roads. “You drive past government land that looks like trespassers get shot. They probably have UFOs there or something. Actually . . . .” I turn to two of our companions. “Clint? Natasha?”

“It’s not SHIELD, as far as I know.” Natasha shrugs.

Clint shakes his head. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

I jut my bottom lip out. “That would have made driving by with an alien so much more fun.” Loki sighs and shakes his head. I hip check hime as I walk up to the car. “Keep that attitude up and we’re adding Roswell to the itinerary.” He mumbles something about having to ‘educate’ me about proper pranks.

Our car leads the way, Natasha following the directions the waiter wrote for us.

“Paige, are you sure this is the right way?” Steve asks as we drive down a winding dirt road.

“I think so? I didn’t drive it myself, but I remember it seeming like we made a mistake.”

“If we get pulled over, the agents do the talking,” Natasha mutters, eyeing the high fences on one side of the road.

“It’s crazy to get to, but the geyser just is where it is.” I shrug. We turn a bend and suddenly find ourselves in a parking lot of a small local park. “There it is!” I exclaim excitedly.

“Are we going to see it go off?” Steve asks.

“Probably not. It’s very irregular.”

Natasha parks and turns to me. “Then why are we here?”

“To stretch our legs. It’s worthwhile, I promise!”

Nearby, a man plays frisbee with his dog. He looks confused to see our large group piling out of two rental SUVs, but doesn’t seem to mind.

“It’s orange!” Steve exclaims.

A pool of water bubbles ever so slightly and gently streams over several steps of orange and yellow rippled stone deposits until flowing into the river. Steve and I grab the cameras Tony bought us.

“Isn’t it cool?” I ask, hoping I made a good decision.

“Okay, so you were right on this one.” Clint walks over. “Can we go near it?”

I smile. “Yeah, you can walk around on it and everything. Try not to break anything, though.”

“Isn’t it hot?” Bruce asks.

I shake my head. “This is a rare cold-water geyser. We probably won’t see it go off, but it’s still pretty.” I carefully pick my way around the rocks. I find a dry spot and kneel down, searching the ground.

“What are you looking for?” Bruce asks over my shoulder.

“Just give me a moment.” I find a loose yellow rock and pick it up. I hold it out to him. “Look at the bugs!”

He carefully grabs the rock. “I don’t see any . . . oh!” He examines the small mite-like insects for a moment before handing the rock back to me. “You like entomology?”

I shrug. “I like nature and biology in general. I just think it’s neat how the insect populations have evolved to camouflage on the varying steps.”

“How so?”

I search around an orange area until I find a spot where a layer is peeled back. “Look inside.”

Bruce kneels down and examines the small fracture in the rock. “Oh, they’re orange here.”

“Like I said, the populations are camouflaged to variations in a relatively small environment.”

“That’s rather interesting.”

Clint looks over to us. “What are you two looking at?”

“Bugs!” I respond.

“Nerds!” Tony calls out.

“Are they cool bugs?” Clint asks.

“Not unless you’re fascinated by evolutionary biology,” Bruce replies.

“They’re just mites,” I explain.

Clint rolls his eyes. “Scientists,” he says dramatically.

“I resent that,” Tony says, smiling.

“You’re the ones that called us nerds!” I say accusingly.

“I meant it as an endearing term.”

I huff dramatically. “I prefer ‘geek’, thank you very much.” I wander around the geyser and focus on taking reference photos to paint later. We hang around for a bit, stretching our legs, before we make our way back to the cars and get back on the road. During the drive, Steve and I compare photos.

When we get to Moab, we decide to look at the roadside petroglyphs and leave Arches for tomorrow.

 

———

 

We spend hours at Arches, driving down all the roads, stopping at all of the viewing spots, and hiking a few of the trails. We give the rock formations our own names, like _Elvis_ , _Disgruntled Spatula_ , _The Three Witches_ , and _Buddha Gazing Through Portal_. Steve and I take pictures of everything from the large rock formations to small cacti. Bruce and I talk about the living dirt, the bacteria that forms little mounds all around the desert floor of the park. Natasha and Clint have climbing and balancing contests when we are away from other tourists, climbing just about any less-delicate formation they can reach by a path.

 

———

 

The next day, we head out to Canyonlands National Park, stopping at Hole ’N The Rock on the way.

“Paige, what is this place?” Clint asks me.

“Oh, just some hole in the wall my grandparents showed me.” Natasha high-fives me while Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. “Hey, that one was obligatory. It’s a house, because Americans are crazy. Let’s go inside and get a tour.”

 

———

 

“It looks like you could just reach up and catch a cloud,” Steve mumbles.

“Doesn’t it?”  
“Here we are, Canyonlands,” Natasha announces as we pass the sign.

“At Arches, we looked up at formations. Now you get to look down at canyons.”

We have a more relaxing visit in this park, enjoying a picnic at what feels like the top of the world.

 

———

 

“Doesn’t that look like some kind of evil fortress?” I point to a jagged outcropping of rock to one side of the road into Monument Valley.

“So this is Navajo land, you said?” Loki turns to me.

“Yeah. Their land is mostly pretty barren, but this place is gorgeous. Hollywood films here a lot. Pretty much all the iconic images of the Southwest are from Monument Valley.”

“Did we . . . did the government give them this land?” Steve asks.

“The American government has treated the native peoples beyond awfully, but the Navajo actually requested this land. Their cultural identity is heavily tied to the area.”

We take our time in the visitors’ center and take advantage of the opportunities to learn about the area and of Navajo culture. After the demonstrations in the hogan, we hang around as Steve asks more questions about the windtalkers. We take the guided tour and spend the night in the hotel.

I sleep soundly that night.

 

———

 

“Okay, Paige, this is your show. What’s today’s plan?” Steve asks as we exit the car. I’ve been kind of vague about today, only partially because I haven’t done an Antelope Canyon tour before. Everyone gathers around me.

“There’s a spot I want to hike to and spend some time at.” Deep breath. Here goes nothing. “I was thinking — I wouldn’t normally suggest this, but this is a capable group — that we could go zero tech today.” I try my best to sound nonchalant while suggesting a generally very bad (unhelpful at the least) idea.

Tony almost chokes on his coffee. “You don’t think we should at least bring a phone? We’re hiking in the desert.” Yeah, why do you think I packed super spies with compasses, maps, and pocket knives? “And won’t Steve want to take pictures?”

“Well, since we won’t be going far, we have the tools we need should there be an emergency, which there most likely will not be.” The guide carries a radio. “Signal in slot canyons is spotty at best, and you can’t take good pictures without fancy cameras and know-how.”

“Yeah, but _why_?” Tony presses.

Okay, serious-voice time. “I was thinking,” I look at each of my companions in turn, checking that I have their full attention so they might understand, “that this is a very special and _isolated_ place left to its natural beauty. It’s almost like a _different dimension_ , and I think that technology could get in the way of the _experience_ I desperately want to _share with everyone_.”

After everyone has re-packed in silence, Tony and Natasha use their phones to double-check that we are tech-free and without bugs, before tossing those into cars, too. We meet up with our guide, John, and follow him into the desert.

 

———

 

“Natasha, Clint, is this good?” I ask. We’ve reached a spot in the canyon where the walls overlap above us, creating a ceiling over a nook just wide enough for all of us to sit and face each other.

“This is perfect,” Natasha responds.

Our guide turns around. “This is one of the more amazing spots in the canyon. Unfortunately, to take good pictures you need a professional camera that can take in the light in a particular way.”

I nod. “So I’ve heard. Look, John, you know that these are the Avengers.”

“And I’m proud to show our people’s beautiful land to you all.”

I rub the back of my neck. “Well, I have something to confess. We didn’t come here just to see this canyon. I’ve wanted to come here for a long time and have thoroughly enjoyed this tour, but there’s something else on our agenda. We need to hold a secret meeting.”

John furrows his brows. “ . . . Here?”

“Yes. For classified reasons. And it involves classified content. I know we need to have a guide, but would it be possible for you to maybe . . . stand out of earshot? I hate putting you in this position, but it’s really important.”

Tony speaks up. “I’m sure Stark Industries could provide compensation. Is your trust in letting us be alone for a bit worth, say, a scholarship fund for Navajo youth?”

John takes a minute to think through his dilemma. “ . . . I’d say it is. But only because you’re the Avengers. Please be careful, and don’t leave this spot. I’ll be just out of earshot, back the way we came. In case of a flash flood, the nearest exit is behind us.”

“Thank you so much,” I tell him earnestly. “You won’t regret this.” He simply nods and weaves his way around and behind us, then disappears around a bend.


	16. She planned this in chapter nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers: Most MCU media up to spring 2017

I wait a few minutes while John walks off. “Well, um, here we go.” I turn to face everyone. “Take a seat. It’s about time I got to tell you all what I know, and we have a lot to cover.” Everyone quietly situates themselves in a tight circle of sorts. I sit and take a deep breath. This is finally happening.

“Start with who we’re hiding from,” Natasha implores.

I nod. “Okay. I would have told you all everything to begin with, but . . . .” I gather my strength of will and look Natasha in the eye. “But, Jarvis is compromised and Hydra has infiltrated SHIELD.”

“Jarvis _what_?” Tony coughs.

A wide-eyed Steve blurts out, “ _Hydra_?”

Everyone has gone extremely pale. I hold up a hand. “Let me start from the beginning. By now, I’m sure everyone has realized there was more than one Avengers movie. Please be patient with me, because there is an entire franchise to go over with you. I’m going to tell you what I know from the movies, the press releases, internet chatter, and older versions of the stories. I’ll keep personal things between those affected, because you deserve to know my knowledge in those regards as well. But, I’m starting with the big things.”

Bruce pipes up. “Is it safe to tell us every detail? Do some events need to occur?”

“I hate to say this,” Tony adds slowly, “but for all that we’ve harassed you, your approach the day you arrived may be best.”

I shake my head. “I’ve thought about that. Trust me, it’s all I thought about those days on the helicarrier. But that day, I only had me. I alone knew the consequences of certain events. Now, I have all of you. The Avengers have assembled. And things have changed, because Loki and I are here now, too.”

“Believe me, I know the weight of this decision and have studied it out in my mind accordingly. I’ve come to the conclusion that it all comes down to a single word: ‘maybe’. I refuse to sacrifice more lives for the sake of ‘maybe’. ‘Maybe’ isn’t going to save the universe; that’s planning with the weakness of fear. I refuse to let my foresight be a curse. No, I’m preparing with the strength of knowledge and the power of heroes. I’m assembling a team, and we are not going in blind, not when we have a seer.”

“You want us to believe in hope over fear?” Steve asks.

I wait until I’ve looked each person in the eye before turning back to Steve. “Yes.”

He nods and responds confidently, “Then I’m listening.” He looks around at the group. Slowly, everyone nods their agreement.

I take out a small notepad and pen. “As I said, there’s an entire franchise to cover. We’ll burn this after, but unfortunately, there’s too much to cover for me to trust myself to keep track of.” I quickly write a list of movies and tv shows, triple-checking to make sure I miss nothing.

“This is every work I know about in the MCU. The MCU is the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Marvel is a major comic book company. This series is a combination and reinterpretation of existing works and new ideas. Other, separate movies and shows have existed and exist at the same time, but they are not part of the MCU. Most — if not all — of the MCU, particularly the movies, are under Disney, by the way. I’m not sure of the show licensing, but Netflix does a lot. That’s how all of this exists in my world.

“Also, a lot more is constantly being announced, planned, and worked on; this is just what’s in the final stages and definitely part of the MCU — at least, as of the last time I checked. A note: just as the franchise spans years in my world, the stories span years as well; I’m not sure of all of the timing, though. And by the movies, it should be 2012 here, not 2017 like when I left, so I suppose the timeline has shifted. Anyway, we have time to prepare and don’t have to deal with everything all at once, not yet anyway.”

I point to _Spider-Man_ on the page. “Some complicated deal was made for Spider-Man to appear in the MCU. Movies have been coming out under Sony, but Disney managed to get some rights and he appeared in _Civil War_ , but with a different actor and personality. I don’t know what’s involved in his sphere, since the first MCU Spider-Man movie wasn’t going to be out for almost two months. But he does have movies coming up, which means big villains and such, so we should keep an eye out.

“I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have his powers right now, but happens — or is going to happen, I suppose — is he gets bit by a spider — which is either radioactive or genetically modified, I don’t know which background exists here — and gains some superpowers. Peter Parker is just a teen, but a good kid and talented hero; he is smart and extremely powerful. He lives in New York with his Aunt May.” I draw a small check mark next to _Spider-Man_ on my list.

I circle a few tv shows. “The Defenders. They are a group that also rises up in New York, in and around Hell’s Kitchen. I’ve only watched the first season of Daredevil and hadn’t gotten to the second season or other shows, so I don’t know much.

“Luke Cage is a good fighter and can’t be hurt or something — bullets don’t hurt him. I don’t know anything about Jessica Jones or Iron Fist. Daredevil is Matthew Murdock. He went blind as a kid but his other senses overcompensate and he ‘sees’ the world basically on fire, as he puts it. He basically has a radar-vision amalgam of his senses. Is more-or-less a ninja. Gonna be opening up a small law firm in Hell’s Kitchen with Foggy Nelson. Fights the injustice of the Kingpin, Wilson Fisk. Good guy, takes too much into his own hands.” Check mark next to the circle.

“I haven’t seen the one-shots. All I know is they are mostly SHIELD agent mini stories; one has to do with finding Mjolnir in New Mexico.” Check.

“All I know about Agent Carter is that she’s awesome, so awesome that Hydra waited for her to retire to become more active again. But Clint and Natasha should be able to fill in anything relevant.” Check.

“She got her own show?” Steve asks.

“Better believe it.” I give him a big smile before continuing. “ _Agents of Shield_ is about Phil Coulson and a team he runs. Coulson was supposed to die; I think he’s a clone or something in the show. Weird stuff. Introduces the inhumans arc and has more Hydra plot. I didn’t watch it, but I know someone on the team is Hydra and someone turns out to be an inhuman. And at some point, some woman named Lorelei causes some trouble. I do know that Phil Coulson, Maria Hill, and Nick Fury can all be trusted.” Check.

“Loki, would you care to share?” Natasha says.

I look up from my notepad to find Loki has become tense. “Do you know who Lorelei is?” I ask.

He nods and speaks to no one in particular. “Yes. When Paige has finished, I will share what I know about that woman.”

I skip to the end of my list. “I know nothing about Captain Marvel. I don’t know what ‘inhumans’ even refers to. I’m assuming the two parts of _Avengers: Infinity War_ consist of actually fighting Thanos. That’s what we need to focus on and prepare for. I know it’s not what any of you signed up for, but that’s where the paths you chose lead, because you’re the best we’ve got. That fight’s the big bad, and after a decade-long cinematic story arc with title broken into two films? It’s gonna suck.”

I look up again. “That’s why I’m telling you all of these movies, so those futures don’t happen. We can’t defeat Thanos without a team; I don’t even know what he’s capable of or how he’s meant to be defeated. We need to build the Avengers up, not tear this group apart. We need to bolster its ranks and gain allies.

“I need you all to remember this while you listen, because some awful things are going to be brought to light, but they can’t break us, okay? They can’t. You are all too strong. You’re too strong for the past to break you and for old futures to stop you.”

I let that sink in for a moment. “ . . . That being said, let’s begin. Please hold questions and such until I finish going through the movie in question.”

I glaze over the first two _Iron Man_ movies, _The Incredible Hulk_ , _Tho_ r, and _Captain America: First Avenger_ ; those are more private. The events of _The Avengers_ , however, I go over in detail, finally withholding nothing. “One of the credits scenes is everyone eating shwarma; I figured you all wondered about my comment that day. The other is Thanos hearing about the failed invasion. He smiles at the phrase ‘to challenge them is to court death’. From what I know of Thanos from previous Marvel works, courting Death is literally what he is doing, offering her souls or something; it’s weird and awful. But that’s where the big arc is introduced. Thanos is trying to collect the Infinity Stones. After I’m done, Loki will have to explain what those are, because I only know they are extremely powerful, themed, and some are at least temporarily kept from Thanos’s grasp in these movies.”

I look back to my notepad. “Alright, on to _Iron Man 3_.” I frown. There’s not much that I’d like to say in front of everyone. “Well, the bad guy in this one is the Mandarin. The Mandarin is a terrorist figure claiming responsibility for bombings mostly targeting Americans. This is an ongoing issue that will come to a head in under a year from now. The US government rebrands War Machine as Iron Patriot and wants to handle the issue. As you can assume, they don’t handle it — Tony does; it’d be better if we all did.”

I turn to Tony. “I need you to think back to New Year’s Eve of 1999.”

“I thought this was coming up in a few months?” Tony asks.

“You really think he can remember that day?” Clint laughs.

“Let me continue, and you’ll understand why,” I say, ignoring Clint. “Do you remember a woman with a regenerating plant? Her name was—”

“Hansen, yeah. She called the project . . . Extremis.” Tony sticks his tongue out at Clint before turning back to me.

“There was a man, Killian, with AIM.”

Tony thinks for a moment and shrugs.

“Killian recruited Hansen. The Mandarin is a front for Killian’s experiments with Extremis. The goal is physical regeneration and enhancement, but it is failing and patients — who don’t all survive the process to begin with — sometimes explode. Killian plans on kidnapping Iron Patriot for the suit and publicly executing the President of the United States.”

“He makes people explode?” Steve asks, aghast.

“It’s a glitch.” Tony waves his hand dismissively, but has dropped the playful expression from his face.

“He’s going to want you to fix it, Tony. But we’re going to try and take him out before that.”

“‘Take him out’?” Steve speaks up again, eyes wide. “Paige, are you saying we need to kill him?” I look around to see everyone is surprised by my statement.

“If it’s necessary? He is killed in the movie. I . . . I don’t want to encourage just killing enemies, but it may become necessary. He has infected himself and as a result is super strong and can generate extreme heat, even breathing fire.”

“Holy shit,” Clint mutters.

“Yes. He’s a problem and he needs to be handled.”

“Sooner rather than later. The government isn’t rebranding my suit.”

I roll my eyes. “They’ll probably do so anyway. But I agree. Also, that’s not the end of the issue. The Mandarin is a real figure, though the one on the news is Killian’s front. And the rebranding and repainting of Rhodes’s suit isn’t so much of a problem as others getting the tech.”

“So the Ten Rings is still around.”

“Yes. I remember from a cartoon that the Mandarin is a tough villain. And something about ten literal magical rings? That’s all I got for that.”

“Okay, what’s next on your list?” Natasha asks.

I look at my notepad. “Um, _Thor: The Dark World_ comes next. I informed Asgard of everything I know, so hopefully this event goes smoothly.” I turn to face Loki. “The Bifrost is reconstructed in time for the Convergence. The Convergence is causing random portals between the realms. Jane Foster stumbles through a portal and ends up finding the Aether.” His face is unreadable, letting me recount the movie without distraction.

“Malekith and some other Dark Elves escaped and are in a deep sleep, but wake up because of this. They send a soldier to infiltrate Asgard, which does not entirely work out. Malekith ends up merging with the Aether and tries to plunge the Nine Realms into darkness. He briefly makes it to Earth. He is forced to another realms and there defeated. The Aether is entrusted to the Collector because Asgard holds the Tesseract. The Collector seems to want to, well, collect. He wants the Infinity Stones, so I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

“Where do they end up on Earth?” Natasha asks.

“Greenwich.”

Bruce speaks up. “What’s the Convergence?”

Loki answers for me. “A rare alignment of the Nine Realms, the optimal time to end life on them all.”

“And the destruction?” Steve asks.

I answer again. “Very minimal. We know enough to prepare for this one. We will know when the Convergence is near because Erik Selvig will run around naked at Stonehenge, which will make the news.”

“He what?” Clint blurts out.

“He, uh, needs some mental help after his recent experiences.”

“We’ll add planning for this to our short-term list,” Steve states firmly.

“Yeah. This one isn’t too bad, at least. _Dark World_ was mostly a transition movie for the Asgard sphere of the MCU.”

“Okay, what’s the next one? Is it another immediate concern?” Tony asks.

_Winter Soldier_ is next on my list. I sigh. “Yeah. It’s . . . . We’re getting into SHIELD and Hydra on this one.” I take deep breath before introducing the next movie. “Next is _Captain America: The Winter Soldier_. The Winter Soldier is one of Hydra’s top weapons. He is a master assassin with a metal arm and capabilities comparable to Captain America. Hydra frequently brainwashes him to keep him under their control. The Winter Soldier is a weapon, but there’s still a man in there. His name . . . .” My voice falters. I swallow and start again, looking at Steve. “His name is James Buchanan Barnes.”


	17. Procrastination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers: Most MCU media up to spring 2017
> 
> Trigger Warnings: discussion of the Winter Soldier and his actions; anxiety/panic attack

“Bucky?” Steve whispers. I nod. “Bucky’s . . . _alive_?” I nod again. “Where?” he asks hopefully.

“I-I don’t know.”

“But he’s alive.”

“Yes.”

Steve’s face grows dark. “And Hydra has him.”

“Yes.”

“Will he . . .will he recognize me?”

“Yes and no. Not easily. Not at first.”

“But he’s still in there.”

“Yes. He’s still in there.”

He nods and steels himself. “Tell us everything.”

Everyone is carefully silent as I recount every detail I remember from the _Winter Soldier_ film and the credits scenes. “Setting Barnes aside for the moment, there’s a lot of important information here. Hydra is big, is deep in SHIELD, and is global. Some known Hydra agents are Senator Stern and Agents Rumlow, Sitwell, and Pierce. I think von Strucker is the leader, or close to it. Hydra has the Scepter you saw Loki with in New York; that’s the Mind Stone. They also have an algorithm with effective predictive power. Sam Wilson is a valuable ally, the Falcon. And the twins — we’ll get back to them later — have roots in Hydra experimentation, so they won’t be easy to get through to.” I take a deep breath.

“As far as Barnes is concerned, I don’t know what we can do now. We might be able to find him before this; it seems the branch surrounding him is mostly out of use, and he was maybe intended to be decommissioned,” the spies wince, understanding my meaning, “by the end of the film if he hadn’t escaped. But there’s a catch. The instance in this film might be the nearest weak point for Hydra. If we go after Barnes now, we might not take Hydra down soon enough. I don’t know how that would happen, but it could. We might also be able to start taking Hydra down now, as we know some of the operatives. The way the film is, it seems like the vast majority of Hydra agents in SHIELD are revealed during the helicarrier mess. If we start moving now, they might have an opportunity to leave in better condition and possibly with agents still left in SHIELD.”

“It’s a risk we have to take, Paige,” Steve says sternly.

I sigh. “It is. We can’t just let this sit until then. I’m just laying out the other side of this. I don’t think Hydra has any access to Stark Tower; there’s no indication they’ve ever successfully hacked Jarvis, so we can discuss what to do there.”

Clint speaks up. “We’ll need to talk to Fury.”

“Steve, I know this is hard, but—”

Steve cuts Natasha off. “But we have a mission. Paige has more yet to reveal.”

I nod. “We’ll talk about this, about him, soon. I promise. He’ll be alright.”

“We don’t have time to plan now, just time for intel. What’s next, Paige?” Natasha asks, driving us forward once more.

“Next, is _Avengers: Age of Ultron_.”

“So Ultron can happen?” Tony asks excitedly.

“No. Ultron is the villain.” I then recount the film, being mindful of my phrasing so as to not place any blame.

“This one seems pretty straightforward,” Clint says after I finish. “Just don’t start Project Ultron.”

“It was a good idea, though,” Tony mutters.

“Is there any way you can make a backup of Jarvis?” Bruce asks.

“Yes. He won’t be the same, but I can do it.”

“Why won’t he be the same?” Loki asks.

I turn to him. “He’ll be missing memories. Jarvis learns and grows like the rest of us.”

“Depending on how I do it, he might become a parallel Jarvis.” Tony shivers. “I don’t know how I feel about that.”

“I want to know how long Jarvis has been guarding nuclear weapons,” Bruce says.

“A few days,” Tony replies nonchalantly. “There wasn’t enough thought put into the last missile sent out.”

Agreed. “I second that. Jarvis should be there.”

“It’s beyond illegal,” Steve says.

“And morally gray at best,” Clint adds.

“But can anyone here disagree?” I ask seriously. Everyone shakes their heads. “Then it’s settled. Jarvis is there to stay.”

I go over the plot of _Ant-Man_ in detail. At the end, I look at Tony. “We want him on our side. The Pyms, too. Lang doesn’t want to be against us and is open to being on our side. This is three powerful potential allies we’re talking about, including two potential active team members in combat. Respect Pym’s wishes and stay away from the science of it.”

Tony puts his hands up defensively. “Fine, make me the villain here.”

“Tony, I’m just saying to take the compromise, at least until Thanos is taken care of.”

He raises a brow and smirks. “And after?”

“After, you will have to make a judgment call. But for now, it’s more important to have these people on our side. So there can be an after.” His smirk drops and he nods solemnly.

I stare at the next title on the list: _Captain America: Civil War_.

“The civil war is between the Avengers,” Natasha states neutrally. I nod. “That’s why you’re so insistent about us staying together.” I nod again.

“We’ll come back to this one,” I whisper.

I tap the next movie title on the list. “Doctor Strange. This one is . . . different. It’s going to stretch what you know.” I go over this one very carefully, remembering as much detail as possible. I eventually close my eyes to focus better, trying to remember every little thing that could possibly be helpful for the times to come.

I retreat into my memory, visualizing the film and relating it back to everyone. Gradually, I become drawn in, aware that I am speaking, but no longer thinking on the words before I say them. My entire focus becomes immersed in the scenes of the film, the words flowing freely, no longer with intent.

“The magician sets his timer, and leaves to face death and rebirth. ‘Dormamu, I’ve come to bargain.’ Incineration. ‘Dormamu, I’ve come to bargain.’ Impalement. ‘Dormamu, I’ve come to bargain.’ Crushing defeat. ‘Dormamu, I’ve come to bargain. Dormamu, I’ve come to bargain. Dormamu, I’ve come to bargain. Dormamu, I’ve come to bargain. Dormamu, I’ve come to bargain. Dorma—’”

I gasp for air. “Breathe, Paige. Breathe.” A hand gently wipes the tears from my eyes.

I try to blink my surroundings back into focus. Loki is before me, the others trying to give as much room as the small space allows. They look afraid.

“Don’t look at them; look at me.”

I turn back to him. I can’t get enough air in my lungs; I’m still there. I’m in space, in that awful void — those eyes are watching me, I can see them in the rock! The rock is closing in, I’m trapped, I’m—

“Deep, slow breaths. Copy me.” Loki starts taking deep breaths as one of his hands moves to my chest.

A cool calming sensation fills my chest, and I feel the air return to the space around me. It’s okay. I’m on Earth. I follow Loki’s example and take in long, deep lungfuls of air as my heart slows back down. I was never even there. I’ve been here, and safe, this whole time.

After a few minutes, Loki asks if I’m better. I nod, and he moves back beside me.

I clear my throat and resume my explanation. “So, uh, Strange’s time loop annoys Dormamu so much he agrees to leave Earth alone. Things on Earth go back to right before Dormamu came and his cultists are all killed in the process.” I continue recounting as if I had been in control this whole time.

“In one credits scene, Strange agrees to help Thor and Loki search for Odin on Earth, on the condition that they all return to Asgard immediately after. This probably won’t happen. The other is Mordo removing the magic from the man that told Strange about Kathmandu. He states that there are ‘too many sorcerers’ and seems to be on a literal witch hunt.”

Everyone just stares at me for a moment. “So, yeah, that’s what happens. Or will happen, rather. I’m not sure how this works, so ‘could’ might be the right word. Because my trance was something . . . besides the film, though it definitely parallels it.”

Tony speaks after a few more beats of stifling silence. “Your eyes were all white,” he states simply.

“W-were they?” I ask nervously.

“Yeah. But not like they had rolled back in your head. You just opened your eyes and they were pure white, no pupil, no iris, no veins . . . like two glass marbles,” he says, amazed.

“Huh. . . . Well, uh, let’s get this finished, shall we?” I say, tapping the notepad.

I manage to explain _Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2_ relatively quickly, since most of that film focuses on character backstory and development.

“I’ve only seen the trailer for _Thor: Ragnarok_. Asgard is attacked and Odin is overthrown. Thor, Loki, Valkyrie, and Hulk — the trailer showed more Hulk than Bruce — do something about it, I guess. Some of the premises this movie hinges on have already been countered, and I left everything I know in that letter for Odin, so this movie is not happening.”

_Black Panther_. “I have no idea what the film is about, but I know a bit about this hero. The Black Panther is the warrior alter-ego of the royal family of Wakanda. He defends his country and all that is right. Basically, he’s awesome and we need him on our side: the king or prince — hopefully both. The hero, the ruler, and the country are all potentially very helpful; they might make or break the battle with Thanos.”

Bruce furrows his brows. “I’m sorry, but you said Wakanda?”

“Yeah, what of it?”

“I don’t think the Wakanda here is the Wakanda you know,” Tony says. “It’s not much of anything.”

I smile. “They want you to think that. I don’t know how they hide it, but Wakanda is the most advanced nation on the planet.”

“Are you sure?” Natasha asks seriously, without condescension.

“Positive,” I respond firmly. “So we’re going to make sure they’re our friends, okay?”

“If you think it’s that important,” Tony says.

I nod. “I do. For now, the best thing to do is not tell anyone we know their secret. It has to stay just with us right here, until the . . . well.” I look at my notepad. All that’s left is _Civil War_. “Until the Sokovia Accords come up, if that still happens.”

“It’s that bad?” Clint asks softly.

I bite my lip. “It’s that bad.” I run a hand through my hair. “It starts with the Sokovia Accords. After a mission in which several uninvolved Wakandans die, King T’Chaka helms a UN movement to take control of the Avengers. The Sokovia Accords are named after, clearly, the Ultron event. The idea is for the team to be heroes only when and how their country or the UN sanctions. Tony is guilted into a need for oversight by some underhandedness. Steve reads through the documents and refuses to sign on. The Avengers thus become split.” I pause. It can’t really be that easy to split everyone, can it?

“But there’s more than politics,” Natasha presses.

“Yes. Well, there’s more to the contract itself. It involves some really sketchy prison in the middle of the ocean, for one. And for anyone that doesn’t sign, they’re future actions are officially vigilanteism and they become international criminals, which the UN’s team would be sent to apprehend and imprison in the sketchy ocean prison. A lot of personal information becomes catalogued, too, making it a huge vulnerability.” I take a deep breath.

“But that’s just the backdrop to it all. The movie is really about Barnes. During the meeting to sign the Accords, there is a terrorist attack on the UN. It is made to seem that Barnes is responsible. But he’s not. He just goes into hiding after the SHIELD/Hydra event. He lives low and works through his returning memories. The one responsible for the attack is a man named Zemo, a Sokovian seeking revenge.” I don’t give anyone a chance to speak, just trying to get through it all.

“The rift between the Avengers grows as the UN’s team is sent to apprehend Barnes. Steve of course goes tries to reach him first, thus becoming a criminal himself. There’s a huge fight with sides chosen and betrayals, rifts growing between individual team members. Barnes is apprehended. A psychologist goes to interrogate him, but it’s actually Zemo, with the book he killed Hydra agents for; it contains the codewords to control the Winter Soldier. So, the Winter Soldier breaks out and causes some mayhem. At this point Prince T’Challa as the Black Panther gets involved, because King T’Chaka was killed in the UN attack. Actual combat eventually breaks out between the whole team. Falcon, War Machine, Ant-Man, and Spider-Man all get drawn in. It’s awful, and results in Rhodes almost dying, but instead losing the ability to walk.

“The movie makes its way to an abandoned Hydra facility, where a whole team like the Winter Soldier were kept on ice. They are all dead. There, Zemo makes his big reveal, irrevocably turning Tony against Steve and tearing the team apart. Zemo is caught by the Black Panther, who takes in Steve and Barnes, as they are fugitives. Barnes asks to go into cryofreeze until his situation can be resolved.” I take a deep breath.

“He _asks_ for that?” Bruce says.

“He will remember most everything after a year of freedom,” I say quietly.

“And the reveal?” Clint asks.

“Paige, what secret could do that?” I look up to find Steve looking shaken to his core.

I look back down at the notepad. One checkmark left. “It wasn’t him, just remember that, okay? It wasn’t him. It was the Winter Soldier.”

I jump when I feel a hand gently grasp my shoulder. “We understand, Paige.” I turn to my side. Loki’s expression is the most serious and earnest I’ve seen from him. I nod.

I pat the dampness from my eyes and turn to Tony. “The mission was to obtain something. I don’t know what, but they were transporting it.”

“No,” he whispers.

“It wasn’t an accident.”

“No. No, the car crashed.” He starts shaking his head. “It was a car accident. They died in a car accident.”

“Tony, whatever he had, Hydra wanted. Badly.”

“No! They weren’t murdered!” he exclaims. “My parents weren’t murdered! If they were, I would have taken care of it. He wouldn’t have gotten away with it!” He stands up and we all quickly follow suit. “So that’s it, huh?” He runs a hand through his hair and turns to me. “You saved the best for last, Paige. Great show. Are you proud of yourself?” I shrink under his accusing finger. He starts to pace.

“Would you rather you didn’t know?” Natasha asks. I take a step back.

“Tony, it was best we learn this now,” Steve insists carefully. And another step.

“Of course you think this is a good thing. He’s your friend.” I’ve hit the wall now. There’s nowhere else to go. “And I’m just supposed to accept that! I’m supposed to accept that _your friend killed my parents_! And then what? Welcome him into my home, too?”


	18. And that's a wrap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to preface this chapter with two notes:
> 
> 1) I'm trying my darnedest to keep Paige's knowledge (for now) with what I would have known and guessed as of May 2017 (give or take a tiny bit).
> 
> 2) I have not yet seen Infinity War, watched anything but a glimpse of trailer, or gone on tumblr since the trailer was released, so Paige's conjecturing relates to note 1)
> 
> Spoilers: Most MCU media up to spring 2017
> 
> Trigger Warnings: discussion of the Winter Soldier and his actions; anxiety/panic attack

Loki sidesteps toward me while Tony’s back is turned. “Stay quiet and don’t let go,” he whispers. I barely hear him amidst the arguing and pounding in my ears. I give a slight nod. He grabs my hand, and I feel a sensation like water being poured over my head, gently covering my whole body. My hand shakes a little less in his grasp as I remember what this is. We quietly shuffle along the wall until we are almost around the bend. Where we once were now stand ‘Paige’, quietly trembling, hands covering her mouth, and ‘Loki’, leaning against the wall trying to be unnoticed.

I close my eyes and focus on my breathing. When everyone starts to calm back down, Loki quietly guides us back, altering the illusions so they blend into us almost seamlessly as we return.

It takes another minute or so after we return for everyone to stop arguing. Tony now stands glowering silently a few steps away from us. Natasha turns to Loki and I. She gives Loki a small nod before asking me, “So, what’s our timeline?” Does she know about the illusion?

“A couple months until _Iron Man 3_ really starts, but the, uh, bombings have already begun. I don’t know when the Convergence is, but the Hydra showdown is after, somewhere between one and two years from now. I think it’s closer to two years. Most everything else happens between then and the Accords, which is about two years later.”

“I’m not particularly worried about Jarvis, so we can make plans later,” Natasha states. “We can at least plan for just about everything we have intel on safely.” She looks around to see if anyone disagrees. No one does. She turns back to me. “So all that’s left is to discuss these Infinity Stones, Lorelei, and those personal things.”

I nod. We all look to Loki. “I don’t know much about the Infinity Stones,” he begins. “I’m not sure anyone does. They are said to have origins in an existence predating this universe. They have been held by various immensely powerful beings and shaped by different civilizations. They are too powerful for most beings to wield directly, so most exist within relics. As Paige put it, they are ‘themed’. Some say they are the cores or embodiments of the different fundamental aspects of the universe.” He turns to me.

“The Space Stone is within the Tesseract, now on Asgard.” I begin counting them on my fingers. “The Mind Stone is on Earth, within the Scepter that Hydra has. The Time Stone is also on Earth, inside the Eye of Agamotto wielded by the Sorcerer Supreme. The Power Stone lies forgotten, soon to be found and handled by the Guardians of the Galaxy. The Reality Stone is lost until found by Foster. I don’t know where the Soul Stone is.”

Loki takes over again. “Some say it is guarded in a hidden corner of the universe. That may make it the only safe one from Thanos, or perhaps it is thus the most vulnerable. Regardless, Paige has described them as clustering.” I nod. “If Thanos really does have or soon acquires the Infinity Gauntlet, then he can wield them all as soon as he obtains them. That power cannot be allowed to lie all with one being, and certainly not with _him_.” He shivers visibly. I put a hand on his arm. He nods to me. “Paige is right. We need all the help we can get, from as many sources as possible.”

“That’s six stones. We need to prioritize,” Clint points out.

“Mind and Time,” Loki and I say in unison. He turns to me and gestures for me to elaborate. “I feel those are the most useful against us, most useful in our hands, best known to us, and easiest to defend as they are already on Earth. In enemy hands, the Mind Stone is the most capable of tearing us apart; in our hands we get Vision. The Time Stone provides opportunity; we need the battle to be on our terms as much as possible. The Power Stone needs to be taken as soon as possible, but I don’t think our enemy will use it right away; he will play with us first. When he stops playing, however, that Stone can mean almost immediate failure. I’m hoping we’ll have enough sorcerers to handle what the Reality Stone throws at us. I don’t want that one on Earth right now, anyway. Not until it can be contained; it seems particularly volatile. There’s nothing we can do about the Soul Stone, but I have a feeling . . . .”

“Paige?”

“Well, if we want to get even more meta about this — which I don’t — but if we do . . . . If I was writing _Infinity War_ , I would make a twist with the Soul Stone. It would maybe choose the heroes in some way, perhaps betraying Thanos. It certainly doesn’t sound like something that Thanos could use effectively. But that’s if I were writing the story, and if I were betting on Hollywood.”

“If we were taking that bet, we wouldn’t be doing this,” Steve points out. “Heroes always win.”

I wince. “About that. For one, that’s not true in current film trends. I don’t think this franchise, with its size and control by Disney, would have the heroes _lose_ , but I don’t think it will be a solid win in the movies. At the very least, the collateral and aftermath will be awful. And that’s assuming everything happens _exactly_ like in the movies. We can’t assume that anymore, because things have changed. And even if they haven’t, I’m not betting on the close calls and exact coincidental timing of these films.”

“We need to set planning aside,” Natasha speaks up. “We don’t have time. Loki, who’s Lorelei?”

Loki sighs. “If she comes here, then it must be from some occurrence during the Convergence events. Hopefully the information Paige provided will prevent her escape. Lorelei is an Asgardian enchantress. She was born with the ability to bend males to her will using only her voice. She attempted to take over the Nine Realms a few centuries ago. Largely due to Sif, she is now in prison, with a collar that mutes her.”

“Her power only works on males?” Natasha asks.

“As far as I know, yes.”

I turn to Natasha. “That may be her weakness, but remember that the Asgardians are physically more powerful than us. I think I heard something about Sif appearing in the SHIELD show, so she must be the one meant to take Lorelei down.”

“Sif would do anything to stop Lorelei. They have a . . . grudge,” Loki says ambiguously.

“Is that everything, then?” Bruce asks.

I turn to Loki. He nods. “Just the personal stuff, then.”

“Paige and I will speak first,” Tony says sternly, darkly. He watches me silently and unmoving as everyone else slowly walks down the way we came. I wait for him to speak.

“That was a dirty trick, Paige,” he says, finally breaking the silence. I open my mouth to respond, but he holds up a hand. “I’m not the forgiving type, so save it. I took you in. I _fought_ to take you in; did you know that? You really think SHIELD was just going to let you leave? I didn’t ask for anything but your honesty.” He’s not yelling. No, he’s stern, disappointed, betrayed.

I respond quietly. “And I gave it, Tony.” I’d rather he was yelling.

He shakes his head. “Jarvis isn’t compromised. You said yourself there was no indication he was hacked.”

“I wasn’t taking the risk. Not until he was cleared by the group.”

“What risk, Paige?” he spits. “There’s no risk for you; you have no skin in this game.”

“You stopped that nuke, Tony. The lives saved in New York aren’t due to the Avengers, they’re due to you,” I say seriously. “And every life lost? That’s on me. I knew. I chose to stay silent. So no, there’s no risk to me. I am nothing — I know that. I have information, and I’m passing it on to those best qualified to use it.”

He just shakes his head for a moment. “You make it hard to hate you, you know that? Look, if you . . . . You seem to have your head screwed on straight, so if you trust Barnes, then I’ll see what I can do.”

“I’m not asking for you to do anything for him.”

“But you gave me time to think about it.” I nod. He looks up at the sky and takes a deep breath. “Thank you,” he says in my general direction.

I . . . I don’t . . . .

“You were honest with me. Not only were you honest with me, but you spilled the beans as soon as possible. And I kind of have to commend your planning for this meeting. So, thank you. You upheld your end of the bargain.”

“Not yet.” I grit my teeth.

“What else? I assume the first _Iron Man_ movie covered events closely, so skip that.”

I tell him about what happens to Pepper in _Iron Man 3_.

“Steve and Bruce are too good, and the spies will probably want to detain him.” He waits until he catches my eye to continue. “If I kill Killian, will you back me on it?”

I answer immediately. “Without hesitation.”

“I don’t mean to wait, Paige.” He doesn’t believe me.

“He’s already killed people with his experiments. And there’s no way he’s allowed even a chance to touch Pepper. I don’t know what help I can be, but I have your back.” I speak as firmly as possible.

He quirks a brow. “And Loki?”

I shake my head. “Telling him is your decision. I’d hate to keep more secrets, but I owe you this.”

Tony sighs. “You don’t actually owe me, Paige.”

“Regardless.” I hold out a hand, and we shake on it.

He pats me on the head before walking away. “Go easy on the rest of ‘em, kiddo,” he calls over his shoulder.

Steve walks over. “Tony seems to have calmed down,” he comments awkwardly.

“We reached an understanding.” He waits for me to elaborate. “His trust takes time. It will with me, with you, with the team, and especially with Barnes.”

Steve sighs. “Do you really not know anything else?”

I shake my head. “Nothing but the translations of a few of his trigger words.”

“And what are those about? I don’t understand what you meant with that.”

I sigh. “With a lot of work, he can probably fight against them one day. But until then, when a series of . . . I think it was eight words . . . are said in order, he becomes the Winter Soldier.”

“That’s it?” He asks, exasperated. “Just a password and Bucky’s gone?”

I nod slowly. “Psychology is no longer a pseudoscience, and Hydra pulled out all the stops to do this. Like I said, he’ll probably be able to fight it eventually, but it will take time and work and pain.”

“Who knows the words?” he asks darkly.

“A handful of agents, maybe less. I don’t have names or locations. But the book . . . . We need to destroy that book.”

“The book with the words.”

“Yes. It might have some helpful information on what they did, but that code can’t be allowed to exist. It’s in the possession of a retired Hydra agent.”

He nods. “Understood.”

“Steve? We have to be careful.”

“I understand.” He takes a moment to compose himself. “So, was there anything you were waiting to tell me?”

I shake my head. “No. I don’t know anything else that isn’t public knowledge, or that wouldn’t be in your SHIELD file, anyway.”

He frowns. “Well, I’m sending Bruce over,” he says and quickly leaves.

Bruce drags his feet on his way over. “I don’t have any secrets for you,” I reassure him. “But I’d like to give you the heads up on something. In the MCU, General Ross becomes Secretary of State. He is one of the main supporters of the Sokovia Accords. Hero regulation is big for him, but not as aggressively as before.”

He nods. “If that’s it, then I’ll just . . . .” He turns to leave.

“Not yet.” He gives an audible sigh before turning around. “I want you to know that you’re a hero. Dr. Banner, Bruce Banner, even the Hulk. You’re a hero to a lot of people. In fact, the Hulk was my sister’s favorite superhero growing up.”

“The Hulk is no hero.”

“He can be.”

Bruce shakes his head and walks away.

Shortly thereafter, Clint turns the bend. He stands a few feet from me. “So, what dirt do you have on me? Besides, you know . . . .” He taps his ear.

I cough. “Like I said, that was never confirmed for MCU Hawkeye. Your, uh, backstory wasn’t explored by the time I got here.”

“But you still know something. Something about _me_ , not comic me.”

I nod. “Yeah. The farm.” His brows shoot up. “They’re safe!” I blurt out. “They’re fine. In _Age of Ultron_ , the team seeks refuge there and nothing comes of it, so it’s safe to say that secret is kept.”

He is dead serious now. “And what about you? You’re a liability now.”

“If I can only take one of these secrets to my grave, this is it. I promise.”

He breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you. It’s . . . my sister and I have been through a lot, and I can’t bear to put her in any danger.”

I blink a few times. “Sister?” Did I hear correctly?

He frowns. “You said you knew about the farm?”

“Yeah, but uh, funny thing: she’s presented as your wife in the movies.”

He laughs. “Wife? Why would I do that?”

I smile, tension of the moment gone. “I’m pretty sure it was done as a ‘surprise twist’,” I use air quotes, “to ruin the Clintasha/Blackhawk romantic ship.”

He turns serious again. “Nat’s and my relationship is between us.” I nod solemnly. Have I not made it clear yet that I recognize everyone as real people? He grins again. “Laura’s gonna love this. Us married. This is gold. Anything else?”

Nothing else MCU. “That was it.”

“Alright. Am I sending Nat or Loki over?”

“Natasha.” He nods and rejoins the others.

After a brief moment, Natasha strides over, stopping right in front of me. She grabs my shoulder. This is it. I knew too much. I die here and now.

“You did well, Paige.” My eyes go wide in surprise. She steps back. “That was a difficult decision for you to make, telling us. I believe you pondered the consequences thoroughly and made a good decision. And this location?” She smiles. I think it’s earnest. “It was a great idea. It was obvious you knew more, but you did well keeping your intel secret.”

“Th-thank you,” I stutter, shocked. “That means a lot, especially coming from you.”

She turns serious again. How do her and Clint do that? “And what do you know about me?”

I sigh. If there’s anyone I have to tell absolutely everything to, it’s her. “I don’t know the details of the Red Room, but I know that if you can imagine a horror, you’ve survived it. I know graduation involved sterilization. I saw you tell Loki that Clint was supposed to kill you. That’s it for any of your secrets in the MCU.”

“And conjecture?”

“Clint not killing you was probably Fury’s plan.” She nods. “That you might know the Winter Soldier.” She nods. “Are you nodding in confirmation?” I ask, confused.

“Yes. Those are things you can know. But they stay between us,” she adds firmly.

“Of course,” I respond immediately.

“I wouldn’t say I know the Winter Soldier, but I fought him before and am one of the few aware of his existence. Anything else?”

I think for a moment. “There’s a theory that you are a super soldier.” She shrugs. “That’s it. Everyone is still fighting for the Black Widow movie, so backstory was whatever was woven in. Sexism in Hollywood, you know?”

Natasha smirks. “Well, it worked out for me in this case.” She’s silent for a moment. “Who do you mean by ‘everyone’? That’s fighting for the movie?”

“Fans of the comics. Fans of the MCU franchise. Actors and writers. Women, and men, too. Black Widow has a huge fanbase, one that defends the character fiercely. You’re a strong woman without falling into the trope of being forcefully butch. You use being a woman as a strength. You’re an amazing and effective hero. Strong, smart, skilled. Complicated and imperfect. The Black Widow means something to people.” She seems to mull it over.

“Natasha, I know you’re not accustomed to being in the limelight. Spy work is obviously different than hero battles. But if you choose to step out of the shadows, you won’t go unappreciated. You are a hero. There are kids that look up to you. I look up to you.”

She nods. “Thank you, Paige. I’ll think about it. . . . Are you ready for me to send Loki back here?”

“As ready as possible, I suppose.”

She smiles. “I’ll walk slow.”

I have a minute to collect my thoughts before Loki saunters over. “Thank you for earlier,” I say and smile warmly.

He plants himself against the wall across from me. “Tell me why I should believe I’m more than a pawn.” He folds his arms.

“What?”

“Why am I here, Paige? On Midgard?” His tone is no-nonsense. “You made a promise not to lie. Am I just another soldier in the ranks?”

I thought I did tell him. I told him by the window. No, no crying. He has his stone face on, it’s time for mine too. “I can say that the possibility of your assistance in the times to come gave additional motivation to have you here as opposed to Asgard. I didn’t need more motivation, though. Besides, you would have helped elsewhere, though hopefully those troubles have been thwarted. I don’t know how I can make myself any clearer about this. I’ve helped you because I wanted to help you. Plain and simple. Were there other secondary reasons? Yes. I think they came after. I don’t tend to act based on one sole reason, and when I do, I constantly reevaluate that decision until I’ve found enough support for it.”

He nods. “And what didn’t you say about this _Dark World_ film?”

My heart skips a beat. No. He asked, and I’ll tell. It’s just words. A future that will never come to pass. Just a movie. “Frigga dies protecting Jane.”

His mask falters, too. “How?”

“A Dark Elf is bestowed with strength, then sent out to be found and imprisoned on Asgard. He stages a prison break, slipping away in the chaos.”

Loki studies me for a moment. “He has intel. I— Loki tells him how to get out.”

“It’s not intentional.”

“What else?”

“Loki almost dies protecting Jane. Is left for dead. Stages a coup, somehow imprisoning and then impersonating Odin.”

“That’s why I’m not on Asgard.”

I nod. “There’s no coming back from that.”

“And they are sufficiently informed?”

“They are.”

His form shimmers, and suddenly the desperation on his face is visible. He slowly slips down the wall and closes his eyes. “Thank you,” he whispers. I close the gap and kneel next to him. He folds himself into my embrace. “Thank you for saving her . . . from me.”

“Loki, no. That’s not you. It won’t be you. And it wasn’t his fault, either. She’s safe because Asgard is informed. You’re here for you, not for her.”

“The man you saw, in those films . . . the day you arrived.” He takes a shaky breath. “Paige, I’m capable of that. That’s inside me.”

“It’s inside all of us, Loki.”

“Not like that.”

I speak slowly, trying to choose helpful words. “We all have our own darkness, our own shadows. Chaos, war, rage, self-pity, pride; we all have something. I’m not saying your struggle is any less, but you’re not alone. We have to know and accept these things in order to be our best.”

“And you? Your darkness doesn’t seem to be your own.” Deflection. I’ll play along, though.

“The self-pity was taught. But I have my own shadow, Loki.” He needs a distraction. “I give all I can, because I know that if I stop . . . . You heard my first solution for Killian. If I don’t work to be warm, my heart quickly freezes over. I give so I don’t take.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.” It sounds like he’s on the other side of it, now.

“It’s a tool, to be sure. I just have to watch that it doesn’t consume me. I tried that path before.”

“You’re doing it now, aren’t you?”

Though he can’t see my face, I smile softly. “If my pain gives you relief, I won’t hesitate. If I can make my mistakes a lesson, it shows me that feeling is okay.”

He gives me a light squeeze before pulling away. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it and just nods to me. I offer a small smile and pull out the tissues I had packed.


	19. Life Goes On

“It’s Paige, right?” John asks as Loki and I rejoin the group.

“Yeah,” I answer cautiously.  
“I have a few questions, but you don’t have to answer if they’re confidential.”

“Go ahead; I’ll try my best to give helpful answers.” I owe him. The universe may just owe him, or at least the rest of Earth. But I can’t jeopardize those lives again by letting anything leak.

“I was wondering which Avenger you are.” He smiles sheepishly.

What? “I’m not—”

“She’s new,” Steve interjects.

“I mean, I’m not an Avenger. Just a friend.”

“Nonsense!” Tony exclaims. “I thought it went without saying that you’re part of the team now.” I turn to him, eyes wide.

“Oh! I, uh, wow.” After . . . after everything? “That’s . . . that’s really great!” It is great, right?

“Well, what did you think you were going to do now?” Tony laughs.

I wasn’t going to walk away, I know that much. “I . . . honestly didn’t really think much past getting through today,” I say quietly to the ground. Can I really be a part of this?

“You do want to be part of the team, right?” Bruce asks.

“If you think I’ll be helpful.” I look around at everyone. Do I really have anything left to offer?

“That’s not what he asked,” Natasha says as my eyes land on her. I want to train, but will I really be enough help to be on the team?

Steve puts a hand on my shoulder. “I think you’ll be a great asset. Both of you.”

“Thank you. Then, yes.”

“I never said I wanted to join your little club,” Loki remarks.

“Consider that your invitation, Reindeer Games,” Tony answers him.

I turn to my friend. I’ve tried not to think about what would happen if he didn’t help. “What do you think?” I ask quietly. If he’s not here . . . .

Loki studies me for a moment. He shrugs. “Sounds like this group needs me, and I’ll be around anyway.” He smirks. I smile in relief.

John speaks up again. “So you don’t have a hero name yet.” Oh, right, original question.

“Actually, we discussed that in our car,” Clint replies, looking to me.

They _what_? “Oh, okay.” I push that thought down. “First, John?”

“Yes?”

“I’m not sure I’m going to go public yet. I want to wait until I have some more training, you know?” He nods. “Would you mind keeping me a secret until I’m announced to the public?”

“Not a problem,” he says confidently.

I smile wide. “Thanks! Maybe you can help me choose a name.”

Tony speaks up. “We have some suggestions from our brainstorming session. You could be ‘Iron Witch’ if you want an Iron Man-type suit.” Is that offer really on the table?

I could never accept that. “Too high tech and too mech for me. I don’t think I’d do it justice.” Could I stay sane with that helmet on? I’m not claustrophobic, but that might be too much.

“‘The Seer’ is pretty straightforward,” Bruce says.

I’m not sure I like that word anymore. But I do need to get over that. “Eh?” I shrug.

“We also have ‘The Oracle’, for a more classic feel,” Clint pitches, sounding like a commercial.

‘Oracle’ . . . . “I like that one.” Not big on the Ancient Greece throwback, but the word feels . . . right? “What else?”

“How about ‘The Eye’?” Clint pitches again.

Nope. I got a mental picture of jazz hands when he said it. “Not feeling that one.”

“‘Pupil’ is a play on eyes and seeing and how you are learning,” Bruce says. He seems to like this one.

“I feel like more of a sidekick kind of person, so I like that element.” I like the explanation, but the name itself isn’t speaking to me.

“We don’t do sidekicks. We’re a team.” Is Tony feeling okay? I look at him. He lifts a brow. Maybe he’s just concerned about branding.

“You can play support, but I’m with Tony on this one.” And Steve agreed so quickly? What happened today?

“Okay,” I say, eyes wide. “‘Pupil’ is out then.” I’m not going against them. Something happened today, something positive that I didn’t expect, and I’m not about to fight it.

“Our last one, my favorite, is ‘Foresight’.” Leave it to Tony to have the coolest pitch.

“That one is awesome!” I think for a second. “But, it’s too cool for me. Actually, I’m kind of stuck on ‘Oracle’.” I’d maybe go with ‘Foresight’ if ‘Oracle’ wasn’t an option. “It speaks to me. But no ‘The’, just ‘Oracle’. Public poll: what do you think, John?”

“I would be between ‘Foresight’ and ‘Oracle’. You’re right about dropping ‘The’. It depends on whether you want a classic or edgy feel.”

“‘Oracle’ it is, then?” Steve asks me.

I nod. “‘Oracle’ it is.” I can’t help but smile. Something about this . . . .

“So you’re some kind of psychic fortune teller?” John asks me.

“I have visions.”

“She sees the future,” Tony elaborates.

“And the past,” Loki adds.

Since we’re clarifying, “And the present,” I say.

“The present?” Loki turns to me.

“Yeah. In Salt Lake, I kind of saw a little past and a little future, but that guy’s son had just called him for the fifth time in a row. I think his — the new grandfather’s — phone was turned off. Anyway, part of my vision was definitely happening in real-time.”

“That’s amazing, Miss Oracle,” John says.

“Oh, um, thank you?”

 

———

 

I watch as Loki fidgets in his seat. “Everything alright over there?” I ask.

“There’s no legroom in this infernal contraption,” he mutters in response. I stick my tongue out.

“Don’t you kids start that, again,” Natasha calls back teasingly.

“But, _Mom_ ,” I whine dramatically.

“Don’t make me come back there,” Steve jokes, turning around in his seat. The three of us laugh while Loki continues to fidget.

I look over a moment later to find Loki has gone still. “Paige, dear,” he says with false sweetness. I narrow my eyes. He smiles mischievously. “Remember that favor you owe me?” I nod slowly. “I’m using it now.” He tosses his pillow over to me. “Put that in your lap,” he commands while unbuckling his seatbelt.

“You two better be behaving back there,” Natasha warns jokingly.

Loki and I roll our eyes. “Yes, Mother,” we say in unison. Steve chokes on his laughter at our synchronized response.

I reposition myself and set the pillow in my lap. I’ve been on enough long car rides to know what Loki is asking. He lies down across the luggage between the seats. It takes a moment for him to get decently comfortable before he rests his head on the pillow in my lap. “Try and stay still,” he mumbles as he closes his eyes. I hum in response and lean my head back against my pillow, watching the desert go by through Loki’s window.

 

———

 

I open my eyes groggily. Green. We’re surrounded by deep, rich green. I’m about to stretch, but notice a weight on my lap and change my mind. I look down to find Loki, eyes closed, looking peaceful. I note my hand resting on his shoulder, but don’t remove it for fear of waking him.

Wait a second.

He’s not asleep.

I carefully bring my hand away and stretch. Loki slowly stirs and does the same. “Watch out for cows,” I call out to Natasha.

“Good morning to you too, Paige.” Steve chuckles.

“Just saying. They appear out of nowhere up here.”

“And where is here?” Loki asks me.

“Jacob Lake. Or almost to it.” The car rapidly comes to a stop. Loki almost rolls onto the floor. I look out the windshield to see the cause of Natasha’s muttering. “Told ya,” I mumble. I take in the view around us. “Wish I was awake for the transition,” I muse aloud.

“What transition?” Loki asks, buckling up in his seat.

“That’s the thing. There isn’t really one. Just desert, and then you start gaining elevation, and suddenly this.” I gesture around us. We’re in a national forest of beautiful pines, climbing up toward the North Rim of the Grand Canyon.

“We didn’t want to wake you,” Steve says.

“It was too much of a Kodak moment back there,” Natasha adds. The car starts moving again, the cow just barely out of the way.

“You didn’t,” I say.

“Pepper’s already picking out frames.” She smiles mischievously into the rearview mirror for us to see.

“Aw, come on. Steve, why didn’t you do anything?” I whine.

“I did do something. She couldn’t take decent pictures while driving.” He laughs as I groan dramatically.

“You took pictures?” Loki asks.

“Of course,” Natasha responds.

“I want copies,” Loki says. They all laugh. I grumble and protest before turning to look out my window with a defeated ‘humph’. I work to keep back a smile and sulk for a few minutes, pretending I actually care about the pictures.

 

———

 

Natasha and I unpack for the night. “What happened when you and Loki snuck off earlier?” I turn to her. So she does know. “I went over to check on you. Without looking up, you said not to touch you, then quietly explained that you were standing a few feet away. I looked around. There was a small bullseye hidden in the rock, gone a moment after I noticed it.”

I settle onto my bed. “The arguing was . . . too much for me. Loki whispered to stay quiet and hold on, then grabbed my hand,” I recount for her. “I felt him make us invisible, and we crept over to the edge of the nook. I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing until he guided us back. I didn’t know you had checked on me; thank you. And thank you for not exposing us.”

“I’m just glad you’re alright. How did you know what was happening?”

I look down. “He did it before, during the escape from the helicarrier. It feels kind of like being gently covered in water.” I turn back to her. “How did you know we were back? For sure, I mean.”

She smiles and hops onto the other bed. “I kicked a pebble at you when Loki wasn’t looking. His illusions don’t stand up to touch, right?” She sits cross-legged, facing me.

I smile back. “Right. Thanks for watching out for me.”

She shrugs. “I don’t trust him like you do.”

“I understand.”

“I don’t.” She frowns. “I don’t understand why you trust him to the degree you do.”

“Because I choose to,” I answer seriously.

She tilts her head to the side. “How can you be so at ease with him, after what happened on the helicarrier? I know you know that wasn’t him, but it still shouldn’t be that easy for you.”

I’ve thought about this, too. “It’s partially because I made up my mind early on, while I was still on the helicarrier. It’s also because of what happened after,” I add softly.

“You haven’t told anyone that part.”

“Because there’s nothing to tell. That’s why I trust Loki so much.” Why I went through with his defense. “Why I’m comfortable with him.” Why I can sleep next to him. “Nothing happened.”

She furrows her brows. “Something had to have happened. Explain.”

“Watching . . . watching people die was awful.” I bunch my fingers into the comforter. “It will take time to get over that. But I never saw him kill anyone himself. Even though I thought Coulson could be dying, I couldn’t be sure.”

“And after that?” she softly prompts me.

I look back up to her. “He should have used the Scepter on me. He didn’t. He just had me promise to cooperate. Twice, because I got in his way soon after the first promise, revealing us to Coulson.” She nods. She’s probably seen the security footage. “In the tower, he just had me hide and stay quiet. I could have run away.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“You’re right; it doesn’t make any sense for controlled Loki to do that. I was an unknown variable with possible intel. I have to think that it was Loki himself coming through. I think he was sabotaging the invasion.”

She nods, maybe in agreement, but who knows with her. “Have you talked about it with him?”

“No,” I answer quietly. “We’ll have to eventually, but we avoid talking about that day.”

“That’s understandable. Thank you for talking to me about it.”

“Thank you for waiting to ask.”

“I have just one more question for tonight, if you don’t mind.” I simply nod. “Earlier, you said you ‘saw’ what I told Loki. Like you only knew from the movie. Paige, you were there.”

I blink a few times. I hadn’t caught that myself. “I tried to tune that conversation out. I didn’t want to give anything away.”

“Like when you shuddered when he mentioned torture.” I nod. “I didn’t know if you were an illusion or not. I assumed that if you were, that was part of his game. And if you weren’t . . . .”

She lets me finish. “It was out of fear.”

“But it was about him.” I nod. “Paige, we’re all terribly sorry about that day. We didn’t know—”

I hold up a hand to stop her. “You’re not sorry,” I say seriously. “You’re not, and I don’t want you to be. Even if you had known for sure I wasn’t an illusion, it was a reasonable cost. For you to say otherwise would be a lie, and for me to believe otherwise would be to doubt the integrity of why I trust and believe in you.”

She sits back and smiles. “I look forward to working with you, Oracle, and that’s the truth.”

“The honor is all mine, Black Widow, and never doubt that.”


	20. Dust Motes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: anxiety/panic attack

My eyes shoot open and I inhale sharply. I blink up at the ceiling a few times, trying to remember where I am. Grand Canyon. I'm at the North Rim. With . . . not with my grandparents. Roommates?

I don't have roommates anymore.

I can hear quiet breathing from the bed next to mine. I roll over as quietly and stealthily as possible. Poking out from a small, tight nest of blankets is a mess of red hair — Natasha.

As the sense of panic from my nightmare dissipates some, I recall that I'm with the Avengers.

I'm _with_ the Avengers now. That's right. I'm on the team.

I frown. No, that can't be right. I roll onto my other side and look toward the window. Dust motes play in the dull morning light peeking through curtains. What am I doing here?

I'm on a vacation.

But it's not a vacation. It was a plot to reveal information to the Avengers in secret.

_I'm an Avenger._

No. I'm just a girl. I had information. I shared that information. Why am I here?

Because the vacation cover can't be blown. . . . And Steve wanted to see the Grand Canyon.

But what does that have to do with me?

I wanted to show Steve the Grand Canyon. And the Hoover Dam.

Why is he _Steve_ to me? I don't know him. I know about him, but I don't know him. I don’t know any of them. Why am I here, with these people? I have nothing left to offer.

But they seem to like me.

No. They've been nice; there’s a difference.

Natasha said she looked forward to working with me.

I don't know that she means it. And she didn't say that about me, she said that about Oracle.

I _am_ Oracle.

No. I'm nothing like that.

But they believe I am.

But if I was . . . . If I could see the future, I would have known better than to go to BYU. If I could see the past, I would know that I never— that _she_ never—

STOP. This has to stop. I turn my attention back to the motes. Slowly drifting. Floating by.

I need to get out. I don't belong here.

I sit up slowly, careful to make as little sound as possible. I slip my shoes on and grab my bag.

"Don't get lost," the nest mumbles as I tiptoe by.

I nod. She can't see that. "M'kay," I manage to mumble in response. Then I'm out the door. I turn down the hall, toward the closest exit. Air, I need air.

I stumble outside and desperately take in gulps of of the fresh mountain air. I force the nighttime thoughts back into their little box. It's morning, now. I take in how the light spills through the leaves and causes the morning dew to glitter. My eyes land upon a thin, spindly web. It's only noticeable because of the droplets forming tiny beads on its thread that sparkle in the sunlight.

I trace the glittering threads with my eyes. That web, that's my anxiety and fear. A snaring trap waiting for me to stumble into it. The cleansing dew of the morning will remove the insecurities and worries that got caught in it in the dark. The sun is up, and my nightmares hold no power over me now. I close my eyes, willing the images of the night to evaporate away like morning dew. It's dumb, but it helps. My heart rate finally slows down and I can breathe normally again.

I pull out the tablet to look at the time. It's not long after sunrise. Did my day have to start this early? I shake my head and let my focus wander through the sights and sounds of the wakening forest. I let my feet guide me and wander a little. I don't go into the woods, but I wander around the building and the parking lot. I pull out my camera and take some pictures, of the sky, interesting moss, a colorful bug. I take a short but meandering walk before finding a small patio. I curl up against the building and read some poetry while listening to the birds.

 

————

 

“What are these statuettes?” Steve nods toward the display case I was peering into. The rest of the group has dispersed throughout the gift shop.

“They’re called kachina dolls. They represent divine and ancestral spirits of the Hopi culture. The carved figures happen to be my favorite form of local traditional art.” I turn back to the display case.

“Do you know anything else about them?”

I shrug and point to a pamphlet next to the case. I then jump as I feel something on my shoulder.

“Sorry!” Steve blurts as I spin around.

I shake my head. “No, I’m sorry! I just, uh, I’m just jumpy sometimes.” I trail off and avoid his gaze, choosing instead to look at the display behind him.

“Don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have . . . . I’m just worried,” he says quietly. I turn back to Steve to see him rubbing the back of his neck, averting his gaze as well. “You’ve been playing the tour guide, telling us about everything, but you’re quiet today.” He meets my gaze. “Are you okay?”

I open my mouth to reassure him, but bite my lip. He looks too earnest to lie to.

“I’m not very good at this. I mean, we didn’t, you know, talk about things in, um, my day, but . . . .”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. It’s not okay, whatever is going on with you. You’ve been through a lot recently, and I just want you to know that I’m here if you want to talk.”

I feel the beginnings of watery eyes, so I quickly give Steve a hug. I bite my tongue in an effort to push back the urge to cry and pull away. Steve looks a little shocked. I smile reassuringly. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind. And the same goes for you. I’m always willing to listen and help with whatever I can.” He nods, cheeks growing red. Feeling guilty for embarrassing Steve, I backpedal and head towards a book section.

As I quickly turn around a display, I almost bump face-first into someone’s chest. “My eyes are up here, darling.”

I take a couple steps back and frown up at Loki’s teasing smirk. “Yeah, well, we can’t all be giants.”

He rolls his eyes. “So, what were you and the good captain discussing?”

“Are you telling me you can’t read lips?” Now that I’m practically craning my neck to speak to Loki, I realize Steve had been leaning down a bit for me. I make a mental note to thank him for that.

Loki’s smirk grows. “Your back was turned. I watched him get flustered and blushing, but don’t know the cause.” He raises a brow in question.

I smirk back. “How unfortunate.” I turn to the shelves of books. “Now, have you seen a book on the local birds? There was one I saw earlier that I didn’t know off-hand.” The two of us banter a bit as I work on regaining my voice, having resolved to not be so concerningly ‘quiet’.


	21. Locked Doors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: agoraphobia mention

I knock on the hotel room door tentatively. I wait a moment. And another.

I'm about to knock again, but the door slowly opens. "Paige?" Bruce asks confusedly.

"Um, good morning." I smile shyly.

"What are you doing here? I mean, why aren't you with everyone else?" He runs a hand through his disheveled hair. It doesn't help.

"I thought you might use some company," I say quietly, quickly losing confidence. "I, uh, brought some cards?" I hold up a shopping bag with used casino cards.

"I'm fine. As long as I stay in here, he won't come out."

I frown. "That's not what I meant. I'm not worried about him."

"You should be. But alright, then why are you here?" he asks, a little impatient.

I take a step back. This was a bad idea. I know he doesn't like me. "I'll just go play solitaire or something in my room. Sorry to bother you," I mumble and turn to leave.

I hear a heavy sigh from behind. "Paige, . . . wait." I turn back around. Bruce is pinching the bridge of his nose. "Do you really plan on staying in the hotel all day?" I nod slowly. He steps back and opens the door wide. I look from him to the door and back to him again.

He gestures inside, and I quickly duck in. "Thanks, Bruce."

"Well, I guess I'm not the only one that needs company." He closes the door behind us, quickly setting all the locks. "Why aren't you out with everyone?" I notice that the curtains are drawn. The small room (I don't know how I convinced Tony to rent almost-normal rooms) is almost claustrophobic with just the ceiling light, but if it helps Bruce, I'm not going to complain.

I set the bag down on the table and give a small shrug. "I just don't like Vegas," I respond nonchalantly.

He pulls out one of the chairs and watches me unpack the plastic bag. "Enough to stay in your room all day?"

I sit down and begin opening the boxes of cards. "I'm just not up for it all, you know? The crowds, noise, lights . . . . Vegas is kind of everything I don't do well with." I start dumping the cards out onto the table.

"I guess we're on the same page, then. Now tell me this: why do we need so many cards?"

I smile up at him. "Ever played three-thirteen?"

He shakes his head, and I begin shuffling four decks together.

We're on our third game when there's a knock at the door. Bruce frowns at the sound, so I get up and check it out. Standing on my toes, I peer through the peephole. "Oh my gosh!" I quickly unlock and throw the door open. "Pepper!"

She quickly gives me an awkward hug, trying not to hit me with the bags and boxes she's carrying. "I heard the party was in here," she says, walking in and setting the bags down.

"I wouldn't call it a party, per se," Bruce replies.

"Well, it didn't have pizza yet!" Pepper says cheerily and begins unpacking pizza, paper goods, and some bottles.

"Sparkling cider?" Bruce asks confusedly.

"I'm not going to drink this early, I didn't think you drank, and Paige is underage," she responds matter-of-factly.

Bruce's mouth quirks up a bit at the ends. "That was . . . considerate," he says quietly. I think this is the first I've seen him smile, if that's what that is.

"I didn't think we'd see you again until we got back to New York," I say.

"Well, business in Utah wrapped up quickly, so I thought I'd meet up with everyone here." She turns back to us. "Someone has to keep Tony in check in Vegas," she says with a conspiratorial wink.

"I already put Natasha in charge of that. Besides, they are attempting to go incognito today."

She rolls her eyes. "Unless he's shaved, every employee in the city knows Tony from a mile away." She scrunches up her face. "This might be an expensive trip, depending on how much he convinces everyone to do."

I start shuffling the cards. "It's not the money I'm concerned about," I mumble.

"What's that?" Bruce asks.

I look up to see them both watching me carefully. I sigh and continue my shuffling, refusing to look back up. "I've only skimmed the news, but the government has yet to explain much about 'The Incident' -- I hate that they're calling it that. The world is waiting for a Stark press conference. I'm assuming the government is, too, because they will to some extent be following our lead. So today doesn't concern me so much with Tony being caught out as it does with his new friends being noticed."

Pepper pulls up a chair and sits down. "Tony hasn't told me what the approach is besides continuing with the team. I think he was waiting for you."

I frown. "We need a team meeting. I have my ideas, but everyone's priorities and concerns need to be considered."

"Do we want to talk this over while we play?" Bruce asks.

I turn to Bruce. I don't know if he's really enjoying the game or just the distraction. I nod and deal everyone in. Then I explain the simple rules to three-thirteen again.

"This game doesn't take much thought, does it?" Pepper comments as the third hand is dealt. "Not that that's a bad thing; I am enjoying myself," she adds quickly.

I laugh. "You're right. That's why it was a game my mom and grandma played when we camped. You can set it down at any point and pick it back up again."

"Exactly. I was thinking maybe we could talk while we played, like Bruce suggested. Do you two want to catch me up on how the trip has gone?" Pepper turns to Bruce. He just shrugs. She turns to me. "Paige?"

"Well, the itinerary has been a success so far. The parks were really fun with everyone. Natasha and Clint seemed to really like Arches, and Steve liked Monument Valley."

"I actually enjoyed Crystal Geyser," Bruce adds.

"Really?" A grin takes over my whole face. "I wasn't sure how that one would go over."

"It was . . . neat. And Clint liked Hole 'N The Rock."

"What about Tony and Loki?" Pepper asks.

"I think Vegas is Tony's favorite part," Bruce says with an eye roll.

"And Loki?" Pepper asks me.

"I think he liked the Grand Canyon and the bird sanctuary."

"How did Antelope Canyon go? I know you were excited about that."

Bruce goes still. "It was great!" I say quickly. Pepper narrows her eyes but nods slowly. "It went really well, and I think we bonded as a team," I say carefully.

"It was a very revealing experience," Bruce adds quietly.

"I see. You included yourself in the team, Paige," she points out curiously.

"I, uh--" I clear my throat. "I'm an Avenger now?"

"You what?" she exclaims. "Do you know what you're getting into?"

"Yes, actually."

"More than we did," Bruce mutters.

"We discussed this back at the Tower, some, I guess. Loki is going to help me control my . . . ability. I'm going to play support and not go into combat until I'm ready."

Pepper gives a heavy sigh. " . . . Part of me knew this was going to happen. I was going to ask what your plans are, but that partially answers the question."

"I don't really know what's next for me except training," I respond sheepishly.

"What about school?" Pepper asks.

"I live to learn, but school was the old Paige's goal. I don't know anymore if it's mine. I'd already accepted that my educational goals were set back probably five years before I got here."

"Five years?" Bruce asks. "How could you be set back that much?"

"I had a full ride to a great university, but those two years were wasted, as far as credits are concerned. I took some fun classes, and my religion classes certainly wouldn't transfer. The last semester was wasted hiding in my dorm with near-agoraphobia, so no credits there. The plan next was to go to community college to fix my GPA. Next would be a new university, but not full-time, because I'd have to pay for it myself. I should be preparing for my junior year, but instead I'm at square one." I bite my tongue, refusing to get emotional about this. I failed, and that's that.

"Paige," Pepper says slowly. "You do realize you wouldn't have to pay for it all yourself now, right?"

I stare at her with wide eyes for a moment before shaking my head. "I don't know if I'll have time. Not for full-time, anyway. I have to learn to control my ability, and train to become a productive member of this team."

"You could balance all of that with school," Pepper says quietly.

Could I? I have so far I need to go to even be worth acknowledging as a team member. "I'll think about part-time. For now, I need to focus on training. The world won't be the same after New York. Everyone will need the Avengers, and I want to be able to help." How can I think about my goals when the planet is in such danger, and so soon?

"You have time to think about it. Don't worry so much," Pepper says softly. I realize I had furrowed my brows some, and try to relax my face. I don't want her concerned about me.

"What were you going to school for?" Bruce asks. Being the only one really paying attention to the game, he's won the last few hands.

"Genetics. It's been my passion for as long as I can remember, before I even knew what it was."

"Before you knew what it was?" he asks, confused.

"Well, when you're told you get this from your mom, that from your grandpa, and such-and-such runs in the family, that's genetics. Liking animals and evolution and learning about selective breeding -- that's genetics. The _Jurassic Park_ movies were huge when I was little, and the genetics aspect fascinated me even then. I love languages, and genetics is the language of life."

"Paige, are you really willing to give all that up?" Bruce asks. Haven't I already?

"Sweetie, the way your eyes light up when you talk about your passion, your dream," Pepper starts.

I shake my head. "I'll do what I need to, be what I'm needed. I have an ability that may prove valuable to the team, and I intend to focus on that first." Pepper and Bruce exchange a look. "My dream is to be useful. I finally have a chance to be just that, and I'm not throwing it away. Genetics will fit in where it may, but I have more important things to focus on."

"You stress too much," Bruce comments.

"Are things really going to be that bad?" Pepper asks quietly.

I look over at Bruce. He shrugs defeatedly. I turn back to Pepper. "Not if we work hard."

We tally points for the game. Pepper won. She speaks up again as she reshuffles the deck. "I suppose that brings us full circle. So, what's the plan? Or can we not talk about that here?"

"We'll catch you up at the Tower," Bruce says.

"But for now, there is something we need to discuss. It takes a team meeting, probably a few, but we can start working on it now. I've kind of brought it up with Natasha, but I'd like you two to start thinking about this as well: what's our PR strategy?"

"As Avengers?" Pepper asks.

"Yes. I've been thinking, and the best protection from the government is the support of the people. If the Avengers are distant ideas, the details of control won't matter. If there's an alien invasion, people will know the Avengers will be there, regardless of who orders us. But if we want to act more than in case of blatant planet-wide danger, the people need to have emotional stock in out freedom to do so."

"Tony and I have already discussed the risks of oversight. We're in the process of registering the team as an independent organization. It sounds like that won't hold for long, though."

"Not everyone will trust the kind of power the Avengers could potentially wield," Bruce says seriously. "Especially not governments."

"So we need to have them trust our judgment," I state firmly. "The US and UN are our main concerns. Both are, to an extent, dependent upon public opinion in such high-profile issues. Therefore, we need to have the vast majority of the public swayed far in advance."

"How do you suggest we do that?" Pepper asks me.

"Above everything, we need to be unified, which we've discussed some." Bruce nods. "We need to be a unified front against any attacks on our independence, and also on any issue we tackle. This strengthens the team, and our image. It also protects the individual members. But as far as a public relations approach, I've come up with a two-part strategy Call it the 'Everyday Hero' strategy, perhaps. First, the team needs to be heroes, not weapons. And second, we need to be rooted into the minds and culture of the public."

"Not to be a Debby Downer, but there's a huge flaw to this, Paige," Bruce says. "You've forgotten about me. The other guy is a weapon, and an uncontrollable one at that. You can't make a hero out of the physical embodiment of rage."

I set my cards down. "I'm not the one that's forgotten about you. You are a hero, whether you believe it or not."

He sets his cards down as well. "But the other guy isn't."

I shake my head. "He's not a typical hero, but he's not a villain, and is capable of being more than a weapon if we let him -- if you let him. I'm not saying you have to trust Hulk, or even that we include him on anything but the fringes of our strategy. But don't dismiss him. In New York, did he hurt anyone but enemies?"

"He destroyed buildings with no thought as to the people potentially inside." I don't recall anyone being particularly careful about that.

"Did he not save Tony?" I counter quickly.

"Did he not attack Natasha?" Bruce responds just as easily. He is bouncing his knee noticeably.

"Bruce, I know you don't like losing control, but it's not a monster taking over." He shakes his head. "Think of him more as a child. He is inconsiderate, yes, but not uncaring, and you know that. He is aggressive, but also fiercely protective." Think of Betty, Bruce. "He is young, and though very angry, most of his approaches are a product of reciprocation, not unadulterated hatred. Ross," Bruce's eye twitches at the name, but I see no green, so I continue, "hated a weapon, so Hulk became a weapon of hate. Natasha feared a monster, and so Hulk was one. Steve trusted an ally, so Hulk fought as one. Tony showed trust, and Hulk proved it was justified. I'm not asking you to love him, or like him, or trust him. But for now, he's here to stay, so you might do well to accept him."

Bruce speaks through gritted teeth. "You don't know the risks involved." Whatever emotion he's fighting, it's not anger.

"I don't. But I know the potential pay-off, and that it's not all that unlikely." Can Hulk hear me? I think so. "I won't push the issue any more today, but it is something for you to consider."

Bruce takes a deep breath. "And what if I don't feel comfortable being involved in the PR campaign. You know, as Bruce Banner."

"Then you don't have to be. The strategy will be strengthened with each active member, but I don't think it will be weakened by some being more quiet."

Pepper speaks up once more. "I agree with Paige. First, you shouldn't do it if you're not comfortable or don't wish to. She's right that we'll need a unified front on issues, but we won't always need a full team present in order to build image, especially if we focus on developing public attachment to the team members as individuals."

"If the public values just a few individuals, like Iron Man and Captain America," I say carefully, "then they will be more invested in what those individuals are a part of. Nothing in this strategy is crucial, it's just a plan to protect against future dangers and risks." Bruce, this plan is in part to protect you.

"I think it's a good strategy even if we aren't looking ahead at defending independence," Pepper comments. Can't Bruce see that being part of the team will do so much for him? For one, it would keep him safe. I glance to the curtains. I know he doesn't feel safe. "Heroes mean something to people; they always have," Pepper continues. "From what you two have said, it sounds like the strength they give the people might be beneficial in the times to come." The strength I know the Avengers give each other is important, too, and I hope Bruce will see that. "I don't believe it is an obligation of anyone to be that, but this team and it's members do have an amazing opportunity to do some substantial good." Which is why, Pepper, I have to focus my energy on the team.

Bruce pushes his cards into the center of the table. "I'll take what you've said into consideration." He speaks evenly, trying to force down his emotions. "Thank you for giving me the opportunity to come to the team discussion prepared. But for now, I would like some time alone."

"Very well." Pepper stands and nods to me. "Paige?"

I quickly clean up the cards and leave them on the table for Bruce. "I plan on sticking with Pepper today, so just call us if you need anything."

Pepper and I quietly exit and continue our discussion in my room. We strategize some more, then talk about plans for the Tower, and about our new living arrangements. Then we watch some movies.


End file.
